


Let Them Go

by Starlight_Writes



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Amusement Parks, BAMF Damon Salvatore, Blood Drinking, Bubble Bath, Compulsion, Dark Stefan Salvatore, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Or Die, Human Elena Gilbert, Hurt Damon Salvatore, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Damon Salvatore, Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, Lovers To Enemies, Minor Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, POV Damon Salvatore, POV Elena Gilbert, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Damon Salvatore, Protective Damon Salvatore, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Jane Austen, Ripper Stefan Salvatore, Sassy Damon Salvatore, Self-Harm, Sex Magic, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, aaaaand then back to, and Elena actually fights back, sex spell, the kidnapping AU we all deserve, where Damon's motivations actually make sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 68,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26131594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight_Writes/pseuds/Starlight_Writes
Summary: Stefan never came back to Mystic Falls. Damon returned, but only found an empty tomb. Elena’s phone has no service the night of the party. Lost in the woods, Damon stumbles upon Elena, who looks mysteriously like his long lost love. Intrigued, he takes her back to his house where he quickly decides to keep her.Alternatively, the one where Damon is an emotionally stunted vampire that thinks kidnapping a girl will make her fall in love with him. Not as dark as you might guess. Lots of angst, but definitely will have a happy ending.
Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore, Katherine Pierce/Damon Salvatore, Katherine Pierce/Stefan Salvatore
Comments: 70
Kudos: 92





	1. Fall and Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> I never finished the Vampire Diaries, but I keep thinking back to the Season 1 and 2 dynamic between Damon and Elena. Hope you enjoy! I’ll add tags as they come up each chapter!

_If you love someone, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. And if they don’t, they never were._

Elena knows not to go out into the woods alone. Especially at night. _Especially_ when it’s pouring buckets and you can’t see five feet in front of you. Elena knows this. She’s read the headlines the past 5 months. You don’t go into the woods alone unless you want to be brutally murdered by whichever roving pack of wolves or mountain lions or bears have taken to the back country of Mystic Falls.

Elena knows this. But she doesn’t care tonight. She’s just had to break up with Matt in the middle of Tyler Lockwood’s huge graduation party, where she’s sure multiple eyes and ears caught their conversation. She wouldn’t be surprised if her parents already know, given how fast gossip travels in Mystic Falls. Elena can’t look at Matt’s pleading eyes that say _Stay with me_ so she runs. She runs into the very dark, very wet woods.

By the time the tears clear, she realizes it doesn’t make any difference at all due to the torrential downpour. She also realizes that she has no idea where she is, and can’t see the lights of the Lockwood mansion anymore. Elena takes out her phone to check the GPS, which has no signal in this part of town. This also means, of course, that she can’t reach her parents to come get her, or possibly send a search party.

Just great. This is all just what she needed at the end of a fantastically horrible night. Her clothes are soaked, her shoes are ruined beyond recovery from the mud, and she’s pretty sure an entire bird family could nest in her hair.

Elena almost just sits down and cries. She could give up and sink into the mud at her feet - she’d be right to. But she just did the mature thing by breaking up with Matt, and she’s 18 now, so she has to keep trying to be mature. _Come on, Elena. Move. You can do this. Just pick a direction and hope there’s another house around._

About ten minutes into slogging through mud and thorns and hidden branches that sneak up on her in the rain, Elena decides she should’ve just stayed put. She’s sure the rain would’ve let up eventually, and then the lights of Lockwood mansion would’ve been clear to see, or she could’ve shouted and somebody would’ve heard her. But this rain is so loud and thick that nothing can be done. _Keep walking, keep walking._

Walking is easy when you’ve got a mostly flat stretch of woods without hills or slopes. But then the ground falls out from under Elena’s feet and maybe she could’ve seen the drop off if there hadn’t been the rain, but she falls.

Elena hears her legs hit the ground before she feels it, and when she feels it, it _hurts_. She feels scrapes and bruises and the mud soaks into her pants where she sits firmly in a puddle of it. The mud gives a wet sucking sound as she pulls herself free from it. Elena stands, but her leg gives out as pain shoots up it.

 _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck._ Elena bites her lip hard to distract for the pain lancing through her ankle, and lets out a hearty shriek of _fuck_ into the night. Walking through the woods at night in the rain isn’t too hard. Dragging herself through mud and underbrush seems nigh impossible, and the tears in her eyes flood over her lids and slip down her cheeks. _What a fantastically awful night._

“Help me, please!” Elena shouts into the rain. “I’m out here, please help!” She throws her voice into the night, but the only sound to reach her is the pounding of rain and rumbling thunder.

She shouts until she can’t anymore, until despair clutches her chest and wracks her with sobs. She has no concept of time. It could be minutes or hours before her crying calms to sniffling.

When she wipes her face and attempts a deep breath, she notices a rustling sound, barely audible in the downpour, but she hears it. Too late Elena remembers why you don’t go out in the woods at night, and tries to make herself small.

“Katherine?” A voice calls back at her from the darkness surrounding her. A human voice, not a bear growl, and Elena breathes out in relief.

“Please help me, I’ve twisted my ankle!” Elena cries, waving her hands to try to make herself visible in the rain.

A figure emerges before her from between two trees, looming above her. Elena can’t quite make out any features, but from the voice, she assumes it’s male.

“I- Katherine, what? What are you doing here? I looked for you in the tomb but you weren’t there! I waited for you!” The man shouts at her.

Elena cringes back. “I’m sorry, I’m not Katherine! I’m Elena.” The figure startles backwards. In desperation she flings her arms out towards the stranger. “No wait, please - _please_! Don’t go. I need help!”

The figure stills. Elena holds her breath, hoping he stays.

An eternity of a pause. Then a small breath. “Elena?” the stranger says, sounding confused. “I… I thought you were…”

“Agh!” Elena screams and folds in on herself as pain shoots up her leg again. “Please! It’s my ankle. I fell - I can’t move it,” she pleads.

This seems to shake the stranger out of his confusion, and he moves towards her quickly. “Let me, can I carry you? I live not far from here.”

Elena nearly cries again in relief. “Yes, please, anywhere.”

She feels like a toddler again, reaching up to be held. Her arms go around the stranger’s neck as he stoops down, and he feels warms as his arms scoop her into his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m completely gross,” Elena realizes in discomfort, nearly pushing herself away from the man’s warm chest.

He smiles, and she realizes she can make out his face in the blackness. His hair is plastered to his forehead, and he feels soaked against her. “Elena? Don’t worry about it. We’ll get you cleaned up. I’m Damon.”

Elena takes a shaky breath and pulls herself closer to Damon. She doesn’t say anything else, content to be carried knowing shelter is close. He doesn’t speak either, and she doubts much of a conversation could be had in a storm this loud.

Just as Elena’s eyes finally adjust to the dark, the warm glow of porchlight sweeps over her. She gasps and her jaw slides open as she gazes upon the house in front of her, though house isn’t exactly the right term. This place rivals the Lockwood mansion in size.

“Do you live here alone?” Elena squeaks out.

In the light, Elena could make out his features better. Dark hair and blue eyes - firm set eyes that focused on the house and not her when he spoke. “No. Well, I didn’t used to. My uncle moved out recently.”

Damon sets her down on one leg under the front porch, out of the rain thankfully, while he gets out his keys. She leans on him for support, somewhat intimidated by his sturdy form.

He shuffles her inside and sets her on a bench in the foyer.

“Oh, it must be lonely,” she muses. Gingerly, she takes off her shoes and socks to inspect the damage. Her ankle is a lovely shade of red, and swollen enough to match an orange in size.

He doesn’t answer, just takes off his drenched coat and hangs it on a hook. He kneels down in front of her and takes her foots in his hand, turning it this way and that. Noticing Elena’s discomfort at the manipulation, he sets it back down.

“It’s pretty swollen. Why don’t we get cleaned off and put some ice on that.” He avoids her eyes, and kicks off his shoes.

Embarrassed and wholly uncomfortable, Elena hums in agreement. “Do you have a bathroom on this floor I could limp to?”  
Damon huffs in amusement, and wordlessly picks her up again, carrying her up a grand staircase and through an equally grand bedroom. Elena’s head turns from side to side, taking in the grandness of each room.

She squeaks again when she is carried into a large master bathroom with a walk in shower big enough for five people.

“You can just set me down on the sink and I can use a washcloth or something…” Elena blushes.

That makes Damon huff again. “No offense, Elena, but you’ve got sticks in your hair. Several. It’s gonna take more than a washcloth.”

He gently places her on the ledge surrounding the bathtub, mindful of her ankle.

In a fluid motion, Damon’s soggy shirt is on the bathroom tile, and his hands move towards his belt.

Elena rips her eyes away before she can see anything else. Holy hell if just the sight of his bare, toned chest doesn’t set her face aflame. “Okay…” she mutters. “Shower with a stranger it is then.”

Hearing his pants drop too, Elena’s pulse skyrockets, and she reflexively buries her face in her hands. “I get it, it’s weird,” Damon says sympathetically. “I promise no funny business if you do. Underwear stays on.”

Peeking through her fingers, Elena sees that Damon’s words are true, and his briefs - though damp and clinging to…unmentionable goods – are still on. He’s staring at her expectantly, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

Before her head starts wandering to explicit fantasies, Elena decides it’s really a very good idea to get out of wet, muddy clothes. Her fingers fumble with the hem of her shirt and she tries, really tries, to be as graceful as he was in removing her shirt.

She moves too quickly, though, and her shirt gets caught in a tangle of limbs. She thinks she feels a stick impeding her progress too, but before she can work herself free, warm hands are gently tugging her shirt free of her arms and hair.

Damon’s smirking at her when the offending article is gone she can finally see his face. Elena scowls and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Thanks,” she says stiffly.

Damon leans in and eyes her pants. Elena scowls again and hoists herself off the ledge onto one foot. She loses her balance and nearly falls, but strong arms brace her shoulders. Another smirk, another scowl, his face is far too close to hers.

Elena leans back and hopes she doesn’t smell too much like dirt. Damon doesn’t back away though and just looks at her with those intense blue eyes. She fares better with the button of her jeans and shimmies them down, carefully keeping her underwear in place.

Before Elena can awkwardly bend down to peel away her soaked skinny jeans, Damon is already there. His dripping hair brushes her nose as he leans down, and he smells like leather and rain. Elena straightens quickly, hoping to get through this strange encounter without making a complete fool of herself.

Rid of most of their clothes, Damon turns from her (giving her a great view of his - _stop it, Elena_ ) and turns on the shower. He waits a minute or so, testing the water with his hand before deeming the temperature suitable.

“After you, Elena,” Damon sing-songs, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Oh,” he stops, sarcastically scandalized. “I forgot I was talking to a cripple.”

“Get over here and help this cripple before she gets mud all over your floor,” Elena quips, hopping towards his extended arm. She grasps his hand to steady herself and he grins.

Next thing, Damon’s arm is around her waist and he pulls her into his chest. His breath hits the back of her neck, and a shiver runs down her spine.

The chill is quickly swept away by the pleasantly hot stream of water. Elena groans as the heat soothes the aches and pains, washed down the drain with bits of leaves and mud.

Damon’s hum behind her reminds Elena of their distinct lack of clothes, and space between them. She startles, and clears her throat to try to ease the tension.

Damon softly tilts her head into the stream and takes one hand from her waist to start pulling twigs from her hair. Elena brings her hands up to massage her hair into a more reasonable fashion.

The soap stings her scrapes, and she hisses. Damon’s arm tightens around her.

“Elena?” Damon’s voice is full of concern.

“I’m okay! Just stings a bit,” she says quietly. “Thanks.”

Being placed on the ledge of the tub while drenched in just underwear is a little more bearable when not covered in mud and leaves, Elena decides.

Damon passes her a towel and takes one for himself. She clutches it to herself, covering her most intimate areas, still distinctly aware of how little she knows this man.

“I’ll put your clothes in the wash…” Damon rubs the towel through his hair. “You can wear some of mine.”

Grateful, Elena offers a small smile and accepts the pair of sweatpants and t-shirt when he hands them to her. He closes the door behind him when he leaves, and she awkwardly hobbles over to it to lock it, just in case. She waits until she his footsteps are far and too faint to hear before sliding her back down the door and curling up.

She’s okay. She’s really okay. She’s not lost in the woods anymore, she didn’t get eaten by a mountain lion. _I’m just in a house in who knows where, with a mysterious guy I’ve never met. Just. Stay. Calm._ Elena forces herself to breath in and out as slowly as she can stand, and then uses the counter of the sink to pull herself up.

In the mirror, she looks way less worse than she imagined. Some bruises and scrapes, and her eyes are definitely a little bloodshot from all the crying, but it could be worse. At least she’s clean now.

Elena quickly goes about removing her underwear so she can pat it dry with the towel Damon gave her. Once satisfied that they’ll only be slightly uncomfortable to wear, she slips them back on, and pulls on the oversized sweatpants and t-shirt. The shirt is way too big and comes down to her mid-thigh, but thankfully the pants have a drawstring that she pulls to keep them at her waist.

They smell like Damon, but Elena refuses to think about the warm feeling she gets in her chest at that. Instead, she decides to hobble over to the bed in the next room. Silk sheets. Inwardly, Elena rolls her eyes. _Because of course he has silk sheets_.

It doesn’t take long for Damon to get back. When he returns, Elena is relieved (not disappointed at all) that he has put on clean jeans and a shirt similar to the one she wears.

(And if he gives a look of approval at her wearing his clothes, she definitely does not notice.)

“How about we get some ice on that foot?” Damon asks, and Elena nods in agreement.

He scoops her up from the bed to carry her downstairs. Flustered, Elena sighs in his arms.

“You don’t happen to have a spare crutch or walking cane around here, do you?” she grumbles.

“Nope,” Damon responds, popping the “p”. “This is a boarding house, not a hospital.”

Elena furrows her brow. “Is that what it is? Then where are all the boarders?”

Damon smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Dead.”

He drops her onto the couch unceremoniously and turns toward the kitchen. Elena’s mouth opens and closes, words refusing to come out.

When he gets back with a bag of ice and some pain reliever, she still doesn’t have a response. Damon rolls his eyes.

“Relax. It hasn’t been a boarding house for decades. All the residents are either dead or playing bingo at a retirement home.” Damon pushes the glass of water and pills towards her. “Come on, we need to get the inflammation down.”

Narrowing her eyes, and pursing her lips, Elena takes the drink and medicine. When finished, she hands the glass back to Damon. “You’ve got a twisted sense of humor, Damon…” Elena pauses, realizing she doesn’t know his last name.

“Salvatore.” He finishes for her. “A descendant of one of the founding families of Mystic Falls.” He dips his head in a mock bow. “Lovely to meet you miss Elena…”

“Gilbert,” she replies curtly. Damon pushes an ottoman towards the couch and props her leg up on it, placing a bag of ice, considerately wrapped in a towel, on her angry, swollen ankle.

“Ah, a member of a founding family yourself. What a coincidence. Drink?” Damon gestures towards a table of various liquors and whiskeys.

Grimacing, Elena shakes her head. “Thanks, I should probably call my parents to come pick me up.”

Damon’s back tenses minutely, and he sets his filled glass down with a clink. Elena feels the atmosphere grow heavy for just a moment, but then he turns with a smile and sips his whiskey.

“Sure, found this in your pocket. Figured you didn’t want it to go through the wash cycle.” Damon hands her cellphone to her.

Elena rolls her eyes. “Puzzled that out yourself, did you?” she deadpans.

Her relief is replaced by frustration when her phone turns on, but reveals an absolute lack of service.

“No signal here. Do you have a landline or a cellphone I could use?” Elena tries to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“Unfortunately no. Landline hasn’t been hooked up for years, and my phone is in the shop for repairs.”

“Did you drop it in the toilet or something?” Elena prompts.

“Or something.” Damon says, grinning again and taking another sip of his whiskey.

“Well that’s entirely unhelpful. Can’t you drive me out of here? Drop me off at the nearest place with a phone?” Elena leans towards Damon where he stands near the mantle.

Thunder booms so loud it vibrates in her chest, answering her question.

“Why don’t we wait until the storm is a little less likely to kill us?” Damon suggests.

Elena huffs in resignation. Her parents probably don’t think she’s dead yet. Probably. She rubs her temples and squeezes her eyes shut, wishing this were just a nightmare she could wake up from.

The couch dips and Elena feels the weight of eyes on her. She opens her eyes and slides them over to Damon, who is staring at her intently.

“What. Do I still have dirt on my face?”

Damon shakes his head.

“A twig in my hair? You’re staring, cut it out,” Elena goes to poke his shoulder, but he catches her hand easily.

Elena looks down at their clasped hands. The warmth is comforting, but the way he holds her hand firmly in his… His eyes boring into hers… It’s intense in a way she can’t describe. Her chest tightens and the hair on the back of her neck rises.

“Do you know someone named ‘Katherine Pierce’?” Damon asks out of the blue.

“No, should I?” Elena finally tugs her hand free and clasps it firmly with her other hand. 

“No.” Damon says simply. Elena waits for a longer answer, but when Damon doesn’t say anything else she sighs and leans back into the couch, closing her eyes.

“You’re very mysterious, you know,” Elena says to the darkness behind her eyelids. In the dark, she pictures the way Damon melted out of the shadows in the woods, as if he were a shadow taking form.

Damon shifts next to her and she can just barely catch the hint of a chuckle.

“In the dark and handsome way?” Damon asks.

(Yes.) “No,” Elena lies. She hopes the way her breath catches in her throat doesn’t give her away. “You’re just weird, living out here all alone in a huge house.”

Damon scoops her legs up the and lays them across his lap. She opens her eyes and watches him carefully reposition the bag of ice so it doesn’t fall off her ankle, then starts massaging the leg with the hurt ankle. He thumbs dig into the knots she didn’t realize she had, in an almost painfully pleasurable way. A groan slips from her lips when he hits a particularly stubborn knot before she can stop it, and he smirks at her. Asshole.

“Let’s play 20 questions then.” Damon suggests.

Elena raises an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that game for kids?”

“Consider it an icebreaker. I’ll even let you go first,” Damon offers

Elena’s curiosity wins out, and she nods and thinks what about what her first question should be.

“Why are you living here all alone?” It’s been bothering her this whole night, and she hopes his answer won’t be nearly as creepy as she suspects it might be.

Damon shrugs casually. “I just got back from studying abroad in France. My Uncle Zach lived here before I left, but it seems country life didn’t suit him. He left a note saying he moved and I haven’t heard from him since.” Damon smiles at her, all relaxed and easy. His answer doesn’t strike her as untruthful, but it still doesn’t explain her uneasy feeling. But it does shed some light on his strange circumstance, which puts her a little more at ease.

“Why were you traipsing around the woods in the middle of nowhere during a thunderstorm, Elena?” Damon’s voice wraps around her name like a caress. It makes her want to hear it again.

She grimaces as she thinks back to earlier that night. “I was at the Lockwood mansion for a graduation party and my phone didn’t have any service. So I couldn’t call my parents to pick me up.” It’s not the entire truth, and Damon seems to notice.

“But why were you-“ he starts.

“It’s my turn to ask the question,” Elena interrupts. Damon dutifully stops talking and waves his hand at her to proceed.

“Other than your Uncle, do you have any family?”

He sighs and focuses his attention to massaging higher up her calf. “My parents died a long time ago, so it’s just Stefan and me now.” His tone twists and he grimaces when he says ‘Stefan’. “But we didn’t… see eye to eye,” Damon says cryptically. “Haven’t seen him in years.”

Elena’s heart tugs at his mournful tone. “Is he your brother?”

Damon smiles sadly up at her. “I thought I got to ask the next question.” At Elena’s sympathetic expression, his smile falls a bit, and he nods.

“Why did you go into the woods? You must know it’s a dangerous place these days. If you stayed at the Lockwood mansion, you could have used their phone,” Damon presses her. His face looks impassive, but his tone has a note of urgent curiosity needing to be satisfied.

Elena bites her lip and twists her hands in her lap. She looks down at them and notices a small scratch across one her palm.

“I broke up with my boyfriend…” she trails off, hoping for Damon to interrupt to make a quip or remark on her being single. When he doesn’t she reluctantly continues. “There were too many people there, and I knew that everyone saw and heard, and they’d be talking about it, asking me what happened. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to talk about it, much less think about it, so I had to get out of there. When I finally realized where I was, I was too deep in the woods and I couldn’t find my way back.”

Damon nods thoughtfully. Elena knows he wants to ask her more, but she still has to take her turn. She considers her question for a moment, not sure if she wants to dig up bad memories. But, she figures, Damon did it first. It’s only fair.

“Why did you have a falling out with your brother?” Elena says her words carefully, slowly.

Damon looks her in the eyes, then, piercingly. Elena thinks his expression is almost accusing, but how could she have had anything to do with him and his brother?

“There was a girl,” Damon starts, and Elena understands. “She played with both of us, and in the end, it tore us apart.”

Elena finds she can’t look away from his deep gaze into her eyes. She frowns, and hopes her expression is more consoling than awkward and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.”

Damon holds her there with his eyes an agonizing moment longer, then shrugs. “It happened a long time ago,” he says simply.

“Why did you break up with your boyfriend?” Damon quickly shoots back at her. Elena tightens her hands together and squirms in her seat. Damon’s hands have stopped his massage in favor of gently stroking her knee. His thumb brushes the inside of her thigh, which shoots a fire up her leg that settles in her lower abdomen.

She suddenly wishes the game took a different turn, one less sad and more flirty.

Elena thinks about her answer for a moment before she responds. She hadn’t had a spare moment to think about what had happened since the breakup.

“I guess…” she starts. “Matt was just talking about how excited he was to be finishing high school and going out to the real world. He started talking about all his plans for the future - for _our_ future. And I just, I freaked out.” Elena thinks back to how happy Matt had looked describing their lives together, of college, then a house, then marriage and children. “It was too much, and I couldn’t picture any of it, any of my future, with him.”

Her chest _aches_ thinking back to how she’d abruptly broken it off with Matt without giving him an explanation. Elena fights back the tears that threaten to fall.

“Does that make me a bad person?” Elena says in a small voice.

Damon’s hand squeezes her knee reassuringly. “Is that your question?” he offers her a kind smile, but his eyes twinkle with humor.

Elena lets out a humorless laugh and sniffs, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. “Yeah,” she says. “I guess it is.”

His smile widens. “No, it doesn’t. You don’t want that life,” Damon explains. “You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure.”

Elena stares at him wondrously, puzzled how he had figured her out so quickly.

His eyes narrow as if he can see right through her and into her soul. “And even a little danger.”

Elena’s chest aches in a much different way now. Damon’s eyes lock with hers and his hand is stroking higher up on her thigh now, sending sparks up her spine. A voice in the back of her head bristles at how he says ‘danger’, as if he’s the danger right in front of her. But she ignores it, and can only think that he was definitely spot on about the dark and handsome part. Elena wets her lips, tongue peeking out of her mouth, and Damon’s eyes zero in on the motion, expression changing to one of _need_ , and _want_ , and _hunger_. She wonders what his mouth would feel like pressed against hers-

“Are you adopted?” Damon asks abruptly, still looking at her like he wants to devour her. So it takes her a moment to process his question, head still foggy with lust. When she does realize what he asked her, she startles, and scrunches her eyebrows together.

“How did you know that?” Elena asks, disquieted and flustered.

Before Damon can give her an answer, the dryer down the hall beeps, signaling it’s completed its cycle.

Damon looks at her intensely for a moment more, before throwing out “Good guess,” shifting her legs off of him and stalking down the hall.

After changing into her own clothes, Elena feels like a real person again. The warmth of them being taken straight from the dryer soaks into her and soothes the tension that had been building all evening. When she leaves the bathroom, she comes face to face with Damon waiting for her in the hallway, ready to offer his help with her hobbling down the hallway.

The weight of the attraction between them from before is gone, replaced by an easy comradery and warmth. They move synchronously, as if they walked like this together, arm in arm, a thousand times before. Elena figures if she wasn’t stupidly attracted to Damon, it would be quite easy to be friends with him.

Instead of steering her back towards the couch, Damon heads towards the foyer and puts her on a bench by her shoes. She looks up at him, confused.

“The rain’s let up, didn’t you notice?” Damon gestures out the window. Previously, where the darkness had been a consuming void and sheets of rain blocked any view outside, now there was a slight drizzle. The clouds had thinned to let enough moonlight through that she could see the road leading away from the house.

“I hadn’t,” Elena notes. She had been so preoccupied with getting to know Damon she had completely forgotten about needing to return home. He’d consumed all her attention.

Damon smirks as if he could read her thoughts, as if he knew he was what distracted her. “I’ll bring the car around. Why don’t you put your shoes on?” Elena sticks her tongue out at his back while he leaves for being such a smug asshole.

Elena’s shoe barely fits over her bad foot, but thankfully the swelling is centered around her ankle, and she manages to tie it loosely. As she struggles with it, she hears thunder rumbling in the distance. She finds herself almost wishing it had poured all night, giving her an excuse to spend more time with Damon. But the storm seems to be slowly moving away.

Or so she thinks when she hears the loud crack of thunder that has to be closer than a mile away.

(Later, she’ll think back to that thunder and realize she hadn’t seen any lightning prior.)

When Damon returns a few minutes later, it’s with a retro blue Chevy Camaro, which she’s honestly not surprised about him owning. As if he couldn’t get any more ostentatious, it even has a convertible roof- which, thankfully, is up and keeping out the rain.

Damon helps her out of the house and towards his car. Before Elena can be ushered in, though, she looks back at the big boarding house, remorseful that her time in it is ending.

“You’re always welcome back,” Damon says behind her, as if he’d again plucked her thoughts right out of her head. She looks back at him with a hopeful smile. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” His lips quirk up as if it were an inside joke.

Elena nods and ducks into the passenger seat with a warm feeling in her chest and an anticipation for another evening with Damon soon.

Elena had thought that the sexual tension between her and Damon had completely fizzled out, but when he climbs into the drives seat next to her, it all comes rushing back. The smell of the rain mixing with his leather jacket. The darkness inside the car with them only illuminated by the headlights shining in front of them. It’s like a current of electricity flows between them, pulling them together, making all the Elena’s nerve endings light up. She could have felt a fly sneeze on her with how hypersensitive she was.

Elena realizes she’s staring at Damon when he glances over at her and gives her his signature smirk and a wink. She tears her eyes away from him, still wired, only to see the obstruction ahead just in time.

“Look out!” She yells, pointing at a fallen tree up ahead, lying across the middle of the road. The Chevy’s tires screech as Damon slams on the brakes.

Elena is glad she remembered her seatbelt, even though it definitely bruises her shoulder where it yanks her back, preventing her from slamming into the dashboard. When her heart finally stops racing, she looks back up at the tree ahead.

It’s an old oak tree that has to have a diameter as wide as she is tall. It lays perpendicular to the road, extending far past the shoulder in both directions, preventing anything but a heavy duty off roading vehicle from passing.

“Huh,” Damon says. “We’re not getting past that.”

“It must have fallen during the storm,” Elena says. In a cruel twist of fate, the very thing she was just wishing for has come true. She wanted more time with Damon, and now it seems they have a lot more time being stuck together. “I won’t be able to get home tonight. My mom and dad must think…”

Her parents would surely have heard that she ran into the woods by now, and that she still hasn’t been found. And with the recent murders in these woods, the grizzly attacks that only leave mangled corpses behind, Elena is sure her parents are presuming the worst. A pressure builds in her chest that she doesn’t realize is there until she’s gasping for breath but can’t seem to inhale fully.

“Elena!” Damon says in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“I-“ Elena’s lungs aren’t cooperating, like a million rubber bands are holding them shut. “I can’t, breath- Damon-!” Elena flails her arms out, trying to find something stable to hold on to. Damon catches them easily. He transfers both of her hands to one of his so he can wrap one arm around to hold her.

“It’s alright Elena,” Damon leans in until his forehead is pressed to hers. “It’s just a panic attack. You just need to calm down.”

And Elena tries, but she can’t stop seeing her parents crying, her little brother in his room alone, wondering if she’s alive. Her breaths keep coming so fast that she’s sure none of the air is actually entering her lungs. She shakes her head in frustration, not even able to voice it aloud.

Damon places her hands on his chest and starts taking long, exaggerated breaths. “Focus on matching your breathing to mine. Inhale,” her hands move up as his chest expands. “Exhale,” her hands go with his chest as it contracts.

Then it’s easier, because she can focus on matching him. Elena thinks of how they moved in synchrony before, their steps and bodies aligning as if they always have. Her breathing slows and she can finally feel the air reaching all the way into her lungs. It’s his air, she realizes. As they breath together she can taste his breath on her tongue and it’s as though he’s breathing the life back into her. His calm washes through her and his smell envelops her, the scent of pine and leather. Elena soaks it in and relishes the feeling of being completely surrounded by Damon.

When she opens her eyes finally, he’s still _right there._ His face only a few inches from hers, electricity flowing between them. She thinks if he doesn’t kiss her right then she may combust from the tension.

But Damon leans away from her, extracting his arms from where he wrapped himself around her. It leaves her feeling at a loss, the warmth taken away with his body.

This is a good thing, Elena decides finally, as Damon turns the car around and heads back to the boarding house. Damon respects Elena’s space, and didn’t kiss her right after she freaked out about not being able to go home. Shame brings a flood of red into her cheeks and she’s suddenly very grateful for the darkness. She can’t believe she just had a panic attack in front of Damon. He must think she’s completely unstable.

When they’re back inside, Damon removing his jacket, Elena stands there awkwardly, unsure of what will happen next.

“Um… I’ll sleep on the couch?” Elena wishes she could use both feet. She’d have locked herself in the bathroom by now to live through her shame alone.

“Like hell you will,” Damon responds, seemingly affronted by the suggestion. “You’re a guest, and as such,” he bends down and scoops her legs out from under her, “you will be sleeping in only the finest of beds this boarding house has to offer.”

Damon begins carrying Elena bridal-style up the stairs, and Elena rolls her eyes. “And which bed would that be?” she asks.

He kicks open the second door they come across. “Mine, obviously.”

Elena scoffs. “Oh, yes, of course.” She says with as much sarcasm as she can muster. When Damon deposits her on the bed, she crosses her legs and leans back on her hands. “So then where will you sleep?”

He bends down over her and brackets her in with his arms. “In my bed,” he purrs in her ear.

She thinks he’s serious, and for a moment Elena reconsiders her strict principle to not sleep with someone on the day you first met them.

But Damon only kneels in front of her, says “kidding” with a smile, and begins untying her shoes, starting with the one on her injured foot.

When he finishes, he stands up and goes to his dresser to gather sleep clothes. “I’ll sleep on one of the many other beds in our fine establishment,” he says with his back towards her. Still, Elena isn’t sure how she’ll be able to sleep knowing that Damon is just a few rooms away.

Damon tosses Elena another set of his t-shirt and some sweatpants that will definitely be too big for her, but are so soft that she thinks she may fall asleep as soon as she puts them on.

“I’ll be just down the hall,” he says as he walks towards the door. “Holler if you need anything.”  
“Damon?” Elena calls just before he turns the corner. His head pops into view again. “What are we going to do? I mean, how am I going to get home?”

He gives her a reassuring grin, but she thinks she catches a slight edge of annoyance before it’s gone. “I’ll hike out to the closest gas station in the morning and give road service a call. I’m sure they can clear it.”

Elena nods, but something else is bothering her. “What about my parents? How will they know I’m okay?”

“I’ll call them, too,” he assures her. “Elena?”  
“Yes?”

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay.” He must have noticed something in her expression that made him want to comfort her. “You’ll be safe here. Get some rest.”

Damon’s eyes bore into hers. Elena realizes he’s waiting for her to respond, and she quickly nods. Satisfied, he gives her a nod himself, and then he’s gone.

“Elena?”

Damon’s voice carries through the forest, though Elena can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from.

“Elena!” He calls out to her more urgently. She doesn’t understand why until she notices the growling around her.

“Damon?” she calls into the woods. “Where are you?” Her voice climbs as panic crawls up her throat.

“Elena, run!” Damon desperately calls to her, but she has no idea where to run to. Her ankle throbs and she’s not sure she could run if she tried.

The growling is louder now. Whatever is making it is approaching fast - a predator stalking its prey. Elena is pretty sure she is the prey.

Her eyes dart from tree to tree, looking for the source of the noise, but it’s too dark and the noise seems to be coming from all directions. The growl crescendos and becomes a full roar. It becomes so loud that Elena has to cover her ears, but it doesn’t help. The sound echoes around inside of her skull. She can’t even her herself screaming Damon’s name.

The roar cuts off suddenly, and Elena feels the hair on the back of her neck tingle. She realizes then that it’s not tingling, she can feel someone breathing behind her. Fear immobilizes her, but her survival instinct tells her to _turn around_.

Slowly, as if the thing couldn’t see her as long as she didn’t make any sudden movements, she turns. The figure behind her is completely dark, and she can’t make out any features.

All she can see are the eyes. Red, blood filled eyes filled with fury and hunger, veins branching out from them. Before she can call for Damon one last time, the figure lunges towards her throat.

Damon knows that you shouldn’t pine over a toxic past relationship. That when someone goes to great lengths to avoid you - namely pretending they were dead for 140 years when really they were just avoiding you - you let that person go. Damon knows this. But he can’t stop thinking about Katherine, or her connection with this human girl.

As Damon walks through the woods, he considers her. He’d found Elena in a ditch in the woods in the middle of the rainstorm. She’d had twigs in her hair, she was covered in dirt, but she still was the most beautiful creature Damon had ever seen.

Granted, Damon had thought she was Katherine at first. After Katherine had “died” in the fire at the church so many years ago, he had pictured her face every day. He had dreamed of seeing her again, that even though over a hundred years had passed they would each look the same, and it would have been as though nothing had changed.

Then when Damon discovered the vampires of Mystic Falls hadn’t died in the fire, but were stuck in the tomb underneath, he nearly went mad trying to figure out how to get them out. Damon had reached out to every connection he had, poured over every text, searching for any clue of how to get Katherine back.

Damon had eventually found the answer, with a coven of witches he’d long thought had expired in their usefulness. Together, they opened the last obstacle keeping Katherine from him. Only to find a tomb full of desiccated vampires – their names Damon barely remembered – but a distinct lack of the love of his life.

Damon was the closest then to switching off his humanity than he’d ever been. As he fed the blood bag he brought specifically for Katherine to one of the vampires who had been closest to Katherine (Jade? Ruby? No, Pearl), Damon had held on to the last shred of hope that he could still find Katherine. When Pearl’s throat was finally wetted enough to speak, he begged her for any information on where Katherine was, but Pearl knew nothing. Damon had stormed out of the tomb into the waiting rainstorm without so much as a thank you to the witches.

But then, _then._ Elena. And while she wasn’t Katherine, she was warm and she _needed_ Damon, needed his help. Damon’s curiosity over their similarity peaked, and he decided to delay his descent into madness and monstrosity a little while longer. Though when Damon spoke with Elena he found her similarities with Katherine ended with their appearance.

Katherine had been coy, seductive, manipulative. Elena was anything but. Elena was funny and sweet, honest and kind. When Damon brought up his brother, Elena looked at him openly with only sympathy and comfort.

Their time was going to be cut too short though. His last lifeline to humanity ripped away before he realized. Elena had to go home, and if she left, Damon would be alone again. Absolutely and utterly alone.

So yes, Damon may have knocked a tree down in the middle of the road to extend his time with his new curiosity (let’s be honest, it was quickly becoming an obsession – needing to know and understand Elena). But fate had placed her into his hands. Who was he to push away such a blessing?

That brought Damon back to his current trek through the woods. Not to call for help, like Elena expected, but to gather supplies. He knew where the Gilbert house was. He would be in and out before anyone could notice his presence.

As he approaches the property, he can hear two voices speaking in low tones on the bottom floor. The closer he gets, the clearer their conversation becomes.

“… need to call Elizabeth Forbes, have her send her officers out for a search party,” a female voice says. Damon can picture the face attached the voice – Miranda Gilbert, Elena’s (adoptive) mother. An older woman with long black hair, who resembles Elena slightly, but has a certain air of authority in the way she carries herself. Damon thinks if he could see that face now, it would be distorted with fear and worry.

“No,” replies a male voice – Grayson Gilbert. “We have to keep this within the council. If she’s with a vampire, we have to be ready to protect her.”

Damon hears a long sigh as he climbs a tree next to the house, scouting for which window leads to Elena’s room.

“You’re right. We can’t risk anyone being underprepared when they find her,” Miranda says. “I’m just so worried Gray. There hasn’t been a murder in a few weeks. Another one could happen any day now and we still can’t find the vampire causing them. What if she’s already –“

“Stop,” Grayson cuts her off. Damon gingerly opens the upstairs window leading to a room with a vanity and too many hair products to belong to anyone other than Elena. “Elena is fine. Matt Donovan said she took off into the woods just a few hours ago. I’m sure she’s just lost. We’ll find her.”  
“You’re right,” Miranda agrees. Damon locates a duffle bag at the back of Elena’s closet that he quickly begins filling with her clothes. “And it’s daylight now, she’ll be safe until sundown.”

Damon hears the click of a phone being picked up, then a number being dialed. “Hi, Liz? It’s Miranda. Have you heard about Elena yet?”

As he’s rifling through some of Elena’s more scandalous articles of clothing, Damon ponders whether Elena’s parents will think to go to the boarding house. Zach Salvatore had been on the council before he booked it out of town without letting anyone know (Damon will have to “thank” him for that next time he sees him). It’s possible the entire council will be called in their search for Elena Gilbert. Damon will have to come up with something to lead their search for Elena away from Mystic Falls.

Damon pauses. He _wasn’t_ keeping Elena for more than a few days. In less than a week she’d be back in her own bed, Damon’s curiosity would be sated, he would be far from Mystic Falls, and the council would be none the wiser to Damon’s supernatural status.

The Gilberts’ conversation with Sheriff Forbes continues downstairs. Damon looks around the room to see if he’s missed anything. His eyes zero in on a leather bound book on Elena’s nightstand. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Damon picks it up and flips to a few pages in.

_Dear Diary,_

_Everyone is so happy that Matt and I are finally together, the golden couple. Matt is over the moon, Bonnie and Caroline beg for details after every date, and my parents couldn’t be happier with my choice in boyfriends. It seems like the only one who isn’t happy is me-_

Damon snaps the book shut, his interest piqued. He’ll definitely take his time perusing the inner thoughts of Elena, written down so neatly for him to devour.

Before Elena’s parents can finish their conversation and come check on her room, Damon is out the window and into the woods, whistling cheerfully.

Elena wakes with a sense of vertigo, unable to place her current location with its silk sheets and the smell of pine and leather. Her dreams tug at her mind, but all she can remember is a sense of dread.

Opening her eyes, it all comes back to her. The woods, the fall, _Damon_. Only she could wind up in such a ridiculous situation.

Slowly, Elena sits up in bed and peels the covers off her legs. Her ankle throbs as a reminder of last night, but it definitely seems less swollen. Elena surveys the room and finds a glass of water and some more anti-inflammatory pills left for her on the nightstand. She gratefully gulps down the pills with the water, eager to dull the pain. As she sets the glass back down, she sees a note with a few lines on it placed on the bedside table.

 _Elena,_ (and hell if that doesn’t make her blush, just the way he’s written her _name_ )

_I’m hiking out to make those calls. I’ll be back soon with food and some clothes. Feel free to make yourself comfortable. I’ve left a cane that belonged to a former tenant. Try not to injure yourself more while I’m out._

Elena can just picture Damon smirking as he wrote that last line. She notices the cane propped up at the end of the bed. With a laugh, she discovers a small carved raven perched at the top of it. Elena gingerly stands and tests out a few steps. The cane works surprisingly well, and she makes it to the attached bathroom without so much as stumbling.

Bathroom needs taken care of, Elena begins exploring the boarding house starting with the second floor. She’s eager to do so now that Damon is gone and she can snoop freely. Most of the bedrooms she looks into, though, are completely ordinary, if a bit gaudy. Each room is filled with furniture that is every bit as old and grandiose as the house itself.

The last door at the end of the hall is locked, though. Elena puzzles over this. She peers through the keyhole, but all she can make out is a similar bedroom to the previous ones. The key must have been lost, Elena decides, and makes her way downstairs.

The living room is just as she left it last night. It seems to have lost its surreal quality that it took on last night – the dreamlike state it was in when it was just her and Damon, conversing deeply on the couch. In the daylight, Elena could almost call it mundane, if it didn’t look as extravagant as it did.

Elena thinks back to the history of Mystic Falls. She knows the founding families had been around in the nineteenth century, throwing parties and events that were still celebrated to this day. Elena pictures her school mates dressed up in Victorian dresses and tailored suits, sipping champagne with gloved hands and dancing old waltzes to the tune of a piano. She could almost hear the soft, lilting melody drifting through the room.

Caught in the fantasy, Elena pictures herself in a golden ballgown covered with embroidery. A sash tied at her waist, and her sleeves ever so delicately hanging off her shoulders. Fantasy-Elena greets a devilishly handsome Damon, dressed just as regally as she. Their hands touch, and even through the cloth of their gloves, Elena imagines she would be able to feel the heat from him. Fantasy-Damon pulls her close, and slowly sways with her.

Elena sighs. _I’ve been reading too much Jane Austen_ , she thinks to herself.

Her journey through the first floor leads on to a room lined with bookshelves filled completely with an assortment of encyclopedias, almanacs, and other stranger books. At random, she picks one off of the shelf and situates herself in the closest armchair, which thankfully has an ottoman she can proper her ankle up on.

The book is titled _Uses of Herbs, Flowers, and other Foraged Vegetation._ From the title, Elena thinks the book will be rather dull, just an introduction to basic gardening. As she reads, however, she finds it to be strangely captivating.

Most pages feature a title of a plant, its scientific name, and an illustration at the top. The location of where the plant can be found is featured underneath, followed by a list of uses. Some are for healing, such as curbing infection or pain relief, whereas other plants have more interesting uses, such as poison, or hallucinogens.

What Elena finds the most interesting, though, are the plants that have spells written out underneath them. Every other plant seems to have one or two magical properties listed for it, along with instructions about spell completion. One herb, vervain, specifically lists underneath it having adverse effects against _vampires_. Elena laughs and reads on.

_Vervain is the most potent defense available against vampires. Contact with vampires causes acid-like burns. If ingested or held by a human, vervain protects against compulsion._

Weird, Elena had thought the book was just an informational guide to natural remedies. It seems, though, that the author had a sense of humor.

Elena finds a few more pages that mention attributes of plants as they relate to vampires, some on werewolves, and even a particularly silly one on the ability to deal with pesky gnomes. She’s so immersed in the book that she doesn’t even realize Damon had come home until he taps on her leg.

Elena jumps, almost throwing the book at him.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that!” Elena swats at Damon.

He swats her right back, “Then pay more attention Miss Bookworm. I called out as soon as I got home. Come on, I brought lunch and some of your clothes.”  
Elena’s stomach growls and Damon laughs and jumps away towards the kitchen before Elena can smack him with her cane.

“Come on cripple, pizza’s waiting!”

They eat and talk over slices of green pepper and onion pizza. Damon tells her he called for the tree removal, and then met her parents at the station he hiked to. He relays to her that they’re worried, but happy to know she’s safe, if stuck, for the time being. She gratefully takes the bag her parents had provided Damon with and puts on her most comfortable pants and shirt. The pants thankfully are stretchy enough that she doesn’t struggle too much pulling them over her bad ankle. Damon had also brought an ace bandage that she uses to immobilize her ankle.

She returns to the kitchen to grab another slice of pizza. The same amicability from last night has returned, and Elena almost forgets she’s forcibly stuck waiting for rescue. When she recounts the silly parts of the book on herbs to Damon, he laughs with her.

Though, there is something telling her he’s laughing at something different than she is. What that is, Elena has no idea.

Damon brings her to a new room after lunch, where she finds a giant TV and stacks of DVDs for her to choose from. A thought from earlier crosses her mind when Damon asks what she wants to watch.

“Pride and Prejudice?” she smiles hopefully, fluttering her eyelashes at Damon.

He groans, but picks it off of the shelf and loads it into the DVD player. “I should’ve known you’re an Austen fan.”

“Who isn’t an Austen fan?” Elena says incredulously. “You’re seriously telling me you don’t like a single one of her stories.”

When Damon flops down on the couch next to her with the remote, he gives her a stern look, “Yes, and if you tell anyone otherwise, I will never forgive you.”

Elena laughs and pokes him with her good toe. “My lips are sealed.”

After pressing play, Damon glances at her from the side. “That’s a shame,” he sighs. He turns to see her reaction, and Elena pokes him again when he laughs and her pink flush.

They go on like the for the rest of the evening, joking, throwing commentary out at the movie, and Damon trying his very best to make Elena blush while reciting Darcy’s lines. When they finish Pride and Prejudice, they move on to the other Austen movies in Damon’s vast collection.

Elena really likes Damon. She likes how he teases her, how he acts ridiculous just to make her laugh, how he can make he feel completely at ease, but a moment later completely flustered. He challenges her to see the world so much more brightly that she had before. He never backs down from an debate and pushes her to look more inwardly at who she is, and what she wants in life.

She realizes she has no idea what she wants. Elena had always thought she wanted a life with Matt, a life on rails, completely predetermined from the moment she was born. But when actually confronted with that life, she found she couldn’t stand the idea of it. And even though she has no idea where she’ll be in the next year, she likes the uncertainty, the excitement of not knowing.

One thing she is certain about – she wants Damon in her life.

Damon decides Elena needs a relaxing bath to soothe her sore muscles. What Elena doesn’t get, though, is why it has to be a bubble bath.

She smiles at him, though, as he gleefully dumps nearly half the bottle into the running water pouring into the huge tub. (Elena definitely does not think about how two people could easily fit in it together.)

When the tub is full, and bubbles are nearly pouring off the side of it, Damon turns to Elena expectantly. “Strip,” he says.

Elena feels the familiar blush creep into her cheeks. “What? No!” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Here, I promise not to peak,” Damon says and covers his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Just let me help you into the tub.”

Elena eyes him warily, uncertain if he really won’t ogle her if she undresses in front of him. She makes the most bizarre, freakish face she can muster, but Damon doesn’t react at all. She supposes she can trust him, and quickly strips down as best as she can while hopping on one leg and using Damon’s outstretched arm as support.

Still covering his eyes, Damon helps Elena ease herself into the tub. The hot water feels amazing, and she can easily find a comfortable position with her ankle up on the side and out of the water.

When Elena looks back up at Damon, he’s stopped covering his eyes. She reflexively goes to cover herself, but looks down and laughs, realizing the purpose of the bubbles. She’s completely covered torso to feet with bubbles, not a hint of skin peeking out through them except for her shoulders and collarbone. Elena grins up at Damon, feeling like a five year old playing with her rubber ducky again, and he grins back. Elena picks up a pile of bubbles and blows them towards them. Damon catches a few and fashions them into some sudsy facial hair, which Elena can’t help but let out a giggle at.

Damon rolls up his pants legs and sits down on the edge of the tub behind her, sticking his legs into the water on either side of her. Elena wonders if he’s about to slide in behind her, but then feels his hands start massaging the tension out of her neck and shoulders. This time, when his sinfully pleasurable hands knead her flesh, she manages to hold back her audible groans.

“I didn’t realize my stay at the Salvatore Boarding House included a free spa treatment,” Elena teases.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Didn’t the attendant in the lobby tell you? They’re free with every broken ankle,” Damon retorts.

The bath does wonders for her sore joints. Who knew stumbling through the woods blindly could be so taxing? Elena lets her eyes drift shut and presses herself further back into Damon’s ministrations.

Time passes quickly, and Elena isn’t immediately aware when Damon stops his massage in favor of caressing his neck with his fingertips. When she notices it, though, it sends heat straight to her belly. Her spine straightens, bringing her closer into Damon.

Damon seems to notice when the mood changes, too. At first, Elena thinks he’s going to leave as he pulls himself out of the tub. Then, she feels his lips ghosting the side of her neck. Her breath quickens and her heart pounds. Absentmindedly, she notices that the bubbles have almost all popped at this point, revealing much more of her body now.

Damon’s light kisses are too much for her to sit still, and she winds her arms up and back, curling her fingers into his dark hair. Elena’s touch seems to give him the consent he was waiting for, and his kisses get hotter, open-mouthed. His hands silently slip into the water, one arm curling around her waist and sliding her up and into him, giving him a better angle. The other hand gentle forms around her breast, stroking it gently at first, and then circling her nipple.

Elena lets out small breathy sounds, and she’s almost embarrassed how inexperienced she must sound. But Damon only touches and kisses her more earnestly when she tries to hold the sounds back, seeming to want to hear her gasping moans.

She doesn’t hold back, then, and gives him every sigh, every cry of pleasure. At one particularly sharp tug on her nipple, she cries out “Damon!”

Damon lets out a low groan hearing his name on her lips, and he bites her neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough for the pain to only add to her pleasure.

“Damon, please, I need –“ Elena cuts off with a gasp as she feels his other hand slowly glide down her abdomen. He runs his fingers through her folds, alternating between circling her bundle of nerves and gently prodding her hole with his fingers. The pressure builds, and she must be hurting his scalp with how tightly she holds him to her, but if she does, he doesn’t seem to care.

“Damon, I’m gonna –“ Elena groans out, so close to the edge. All her muscles are tightly coiled, ready for her release.

But Damon quickly withdraws from her, too soon. Elena cries out at the loss, but he quickly picks her out of the bath and into his arms, only stopping for a moment to run a towel over her. He takes her over to his bed and sets her down gently, then gives her a full show of him stripping off his own clothes.

(Sleeping with a guy on the second day of knowing him isn’t technically against her principles, Elena thinks.)

Damon appreciatively admires her naked on his bed for a moment before he climbs over her, mindful of not jostling her bad leg. He props himself up on top of her, and finally presses his lips into hers.

And god, Elena never thought she could come from just kissing alone, but she just might with the way Damon’s lips and tongue ravish hers.

“Damon, please,” Elena begs when he finally breaks away from her mouth, giving her a moment to breathe.

“Please what?” Damon teases her by holding the head of his dick right at her entrance, gliding it up and down her wet folds, but not giving into her attempts to pull him into her.

“Please, I need you inside me,” she whines, and she doesn’t care if she sounds like a virginal schoolgirl. Sex with Matt had never felt like this, never felt so hot or consuming. She’d never felt the need to be close to someone like this, but now she thinks she’ll go crazy if Damon doesn’t fuck her _right now_.

Damon is on the same frequency as she is, and sinks into her slowly, inch by inch. He makes sure she’s adjusted and comfortable before moving, and when he does, it’s absolute heaven. Damon is the pure embodiment of lust and passion, moving above her, kissing her deeply. It doesn’t take long before she’s on the edge of her release again, and as if Damon knows, he reaches down between them and emphatically strokes her clit.

Elena wraps her arms around Damon, holds him as close to her as possible as she comes wordlessly. He buries his head in her neck and doesn’t slow down, pumping into her with long, deep thrusts until he too comes.

Finally satisfied and relaxed, all Elena can do after Damon pulls out of her is accept a sweet, gentle kiss from him before she blissfully slips into dreams.

Damon is fucked. He fucked, and now he is fucked. A simple interest rapidly grew into a full blown obsession in his two short days with Elena. He can’t imagine his life without her anymore, without her laughter, and her banter. Damon realizes he can no longer find the will inside himself to let her leave the next day. She’s completely captivated him, heart and soul, and he can’t bear thought of skipping town, forever leaving her behind to resume his old habits of feeding on and fucking random women in random towns.

And that’s why Damon’s truly fucked. Because everyone good in his life – his mother, Stefan, and now he realizes Katherine – has left him behind willingly. And if there’s anything good left in this world, it’s Elena. For every part of him that’s bad is there is good in her. Damon knows with a bitter certainty that as soon as Elena realizes what he really is, a vampire, a monster, a murderer, she would leave him in a second.

But Damon can’t let her leave. He needs her by his side always. He knows he can’t keep her forever. He’ll either have to turn her, or she’ll die human. But maybe, just maybe, if he does this right, he can show her his love, and convince her to stay with him willingly.

Laying down next to her on his bed, her hair mussed from their coupling and skin glowing in the moonlight, Damon knows he would never be able to hurt her in any way. Her life is his life now, and he would do anything to keep her safe, keep her happy, keep her _with him._

With those thoughts floating around his head, he begins planning his next moves. He listens to Elena’s breathing, watches her chest rise and fall evenly. He restarts his breathing, matching it to hers, and wishes he had a heartbeat that could beat in tandem with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the most fluffy chapter of all! All aboard the angst train for the next one, where Elena realizes she’s not getting rescued. Comments fuel the author! I’d love to hear from you even if it’s only one word or a smiley face!


	2. Discovery and Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a bit longer than I’d like for this to get up, but here it is nonetheless! Enjoy~

Elena is floating. Her skin tingles with the warmth emanating from the blanket above her, and the body below her. Elena’s head lays on a chest, her legs tangled with another’s.

 _Damon._ His arms are wrapped around her, and she knows he’s awake by the way his fingers run up and down her spine. Damon’s body is hard, smooth planes of muscles pressed against the length of her body, and it’s because of this she realizes how very naked the two of them are.

Elena peeks up at him from under her eyelashes. As she suspected, Damon’s eyes are open, casually studying her as she wakes up.

“Hi” he says, mouth forming into a sleepy smile.

“Hi,” she responds, quietly.

“Sleep well?” he asks, pulling his hand up to stroke through her hair.

She hums her affirmative, very aware of how closely intertwined they are. Elena is certain Damon is aware of it, too (how could she not notice his morning wood when they’re so wrapped up in each other?). While it’s certainly enough to excite her, Elena also acknowledges a level of domesticity of it, their waking up together in Damon’s bed.

“How’s the ankle?” Damon asks.

With her attention drawn to it, she realizes it’s definitely throbbing again. Damon, noticing her stiffen, suggests “How about I get some more pain reliever?”

She gives him a small smile. “Yes please.”

Damon gets out from underneath her very carefully, distinctly aware of her injury. He’s still very naked, and Elena gets a longer view of his extremely sculpted body (and fine behind).

To Elena’s disappointment, Damon pulls on some sweatpants. Before she can even try to pretend she wasn’t looking, he turns and gives her a wink. Elena pulls the comforter higher up to hide her blush. (No need to give him more ammo to use against her. He’s already far too cocky as it is.)

It doesn’t take him more than a minute to get back with the water and medicine, but by the time he does, Elena’s pain has only intensified, and she has to bite her lip to stop from audibly groaning in pain. She sits up, and Damon rubs her back as she takes the pills, concern clear in his expression.

“Thank you,” Elena tells him when she finishes. She’s pulled the sheets up to stay covered, slightly nervous about exposing herself in the full light of day. “So, uh, about last night…” she starts.

“Best night of your life?” Damon wags his eyebrows at her. Elena elbows him, and playfully Damon clutches his ribs like he’s been impaled.

“No,” (Yes) “I just, I want you to know…” Elena tries to keep a serious face. She’s an adult, she should act like one. “I don’t normally sleep with guys I just met.”

Damon rearranges his expression into one of deep, fake concern. “Yes, we all know Elena is a morally decent person,” he nods somberly. “She only sleeps with guys who rescue her from impending doom. Much more acceptable.”

“Thank you, for that, by the way,” Elena says sincerely instead of playing along. “I never said thank you. You might’ve saved my life from whatever’s stalking those woods these days.”

He looks at her with some emotion she can’t quite decipher, a bit sad maybe? Almost longing. But his lips quirk up and he drags one of her hands to his lips. “Elena,” he says, maintaining eye contact. “I can honestly say,” he kisses his way across her knuckles, “it has been my pleasure.” Elena’s breath catches as he turns her hand over and kisses her palm.

She stuck there for a moment, caught in his gaze and heart skipping wildly.

“We should…” Elena starts, but trails off as Damon drags his lips to her inner wrist.

“We should…?” he prompts, smiling against her skin, as if he can feel her pulse there, knowing it’s quickening under his touch.

“We should…” Elena has to take a deep breath before she can force her head to clear. “We should check to see if the tree on the road has been cleared yet.”

Damon freezes where he was kissing up her forearm, mood obviously spoiled.

“I just don’t want to overstay my welcome,” Elena explains quickly.

“Of course,” Damon responds smoothly, drops her arm, and stands up. “We’ve got to get you home eventually.”

Elena’s arm tingles from where his lips had kissed a trail up it. She rubs at it to brush away the sensation, and accepts Damon’s outstretched hand. He helps her to the bathroom, still holding her sheet around herself, then deposits the duffle bag full of her clothes and toiletries in there as well.

Once Damon leaves with the promise of breakfast waiting for her downstairs, she turns to her reflection.

It’s a strange feeling, looking at herself. She obviously looks the same, but there’s something different that she can’t place. The feeling lingers even after she brushes her teeth, combs her hair, and washes her face.

It must be this house, Elena thinks. It’s too big, too empty.

But, no, it isn’t empty, she realizes. Damon fills it completely. And now he’s filled her, too. He’s opened her mind up, pulled her innermost thoughts from her, and filled her with his ideas of _adventure_ and _danger_. Part of Damon will stay with her even when she leaves this house, she knows.

Refreshed and fully clothed, Elena takes her time hobbling down the stairs with her cane. Damon presents her with a plate of freshly made French toast and eggs. She picks at them, distracted.

Damon seems to notice her lack of appetite. “Something wrong with my cooking?” he teases, and pokes her in the arm.

“No! No, it’s great,” Elena emphasizes her point with a hearty bite of scrambled eggs.

“Uh-huh,” Damon says, unconvinced. “Still thinking about our tryst last night? Was my dick that good?”

Elena nearly chokes, blushing deeply. Swallowing, she manages to get out “Your self-esteem is way too high.”

“On the contrary,” Damon gestures to himself. “It perfectly complements my gorgeous looks. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Ogles-Me-This-Morning?”

Elena sniffs and turns away from him. “I was just noticing you had a pillow feather stuck to your back.”

“Sure, and feathers all over my butt, too, hm?” Damon says right into her ear.

Startled, Elena whips her head around, accidentally sending her lips crashing into Damon’s. Her eyes go wide, and she tries to pull back, but Damon’s hands come up to either side of her face, keeping her firmly in place as he deepens the kiss. Elena can’t help but melt into it. His tongue tastes like maple syrup, the sweetness sliding into her mouth. She moves her hands up to his chest. They rove freely over the smooth, hard plane of it, coming up to his neck, then twining into his hair.

“Damon,” she says against his lips.

Damon pulls back just an inch. Elena gasps to catch her breath, while Damon smirks at her, breathing normally, as if he were barely affected by their kiss. His eyes give him away though, a hungry look in them as he watches her.

“We have to get going,” Elena says, as firmly as she can.

“Bed now,” Damon responds, his voice rough and low. “Check the tree later.”

And as tempting as that sounds, Elena’s starting to get very homesick. “I really need to get home,” she asserts.

After a long moment where Damon seems like he’s thinking about just tossing her over his shoulder and bedding her anyways, Damon nods, and releases her. He quickly moves to clean up their breakfast.

Elena feels torn. She doesn’t want to sound like she’s excited to leave, but it’s as though Damon has forgotten Elena doesn’t actually belong here. That she’s only there by necessity until the tree is cleared away. It’s not like they can’t see each other after she leaves. Right?

“So, Damon,” she calls to him as he’s washing dishes, aiming for nonchalance. He faces away from her, but his back tenses for a moment, so she knows he’s listening. “How long were you planning on staying in town?”

Damon freezes. So he was planning on leaving, Elena realizes.

“Wasn’t sure,” Damon’s tone sounds casual, but his back is still turned away from her. “But I can’t leave with that tree blocking the only road out of here, can I?”

It’s a dismissive answer, but Elena doesn’t push. They go about getting Elena’s things together and loading her into the car without speaking. Only Damon’s reassuring hand at her back, helping her into the car, keeps her from worrying too much that she’s upset him.

The tree is whole and intact, still blocking her exit. For a moment, Elena contemplates asking if Damon owns a chainsaw. (She pictures herself, in a fury, tearing the trunk to tiny little particles of sawdust, roaring as she wields the chainsaw above her head.)

She groans and slumps forward, hitting her head lightly onto the dashboard.

“How long did road service say it would take them to clear it?” she asks Damon.

He shrugs, “They didn’t give me a timeframe, just that the storm caused a lot of damage all across town.”

Elena sighs. Nothing can be done, then. She’ll just have to wait.

“Hey, look at the bright side,” Damon says. “It’s probably best you’re cooped up here while your ankle heals.”

Elena smiles, trying to stay positive. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Damon studies her for a moment, seemingly not convinced by her positivity. He nods, though, and starts to turn the car around. “Come on, let’s go home and you can rest your ankle more.”

Home, he says. Like the boarding house is her home. (Part of her thrills that Damon would want her to share his home.)

But she wants to be at her own home, she wants to see her parents. Her dad would rewrap her ankle and give her his extra strength doctor’s medicine, and her mom would lend her should for Elena to cry on about Matt. Elena even misses Jeremy, even though he’s an annoying little brother most of the time. She imagines if she were stuck at home with him, he would keep her entertained with Mario Kart and other video games they could torment each other with.

This time when Damon pulls back up to the Boarding House, it looks less like a mansion, and more like a prison. The big walls just feel like they’re closing in on her, separating her from the world she longs to return to.

Elena hobbles back inside, though walking with the cane is getting a little more comfortable, and her ankle doesn’t hurt nearly as much when she puts her weight on it. Elena holds on to that, the only bright side she can latch on to. She stands in the middle of the living room, uncertain what she should do next.

“I’ve got some chores to do around the house,” Damon says behind her. “Think you can keep yourself occupied?”

Elena turns, throws him a small smile, nods, and walks towards the library. “I’m sure I can find something I haven’t read before in here.” She hopes she sounds optimistic.

“Give me a holler if you need anything,” Damon says, seemingly unconvinced as she is.

Entering the library, Elena’s eyes pass over each row of books, but nothing catches her eye. She even spots some really interesting titles – _The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat_ and _Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? –_ but she just keeps scanning the shelves.

One book is left on a table near a bookcase, like someone recently finished reading it but it hasn’t made it back to the shelf yet. The book is old, weathered around the edges, and only a scant hundred pages or so. But upon closer inspection, Elena recognizes the cover, and her hands snatch it up before she even thinks.

There’s a porch outside the back of the house Elena noticed earlier, and the old rocking chair facing the woods makes for a good reading spot.

 _The Little Prince_ tells a story of a young boy flying from planet to planet on a flock of wild birds. It’s bizarre and fantastical and a little bit sad. In her childhood Elena would read it over and over. It’s comforting, but also leaves her with tears in her eyes once she finishes it.

Elena muses over the ending. As young girl, Elena had always believed the little prince had returned back to his home. Now, just after becoming an adult, Elena realizes another interpretation was the poor prince died instead. She wipes the tears away before they can fall.

“Good book?” Damon calls to her from the door.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Elena nods. She sees he’s holding something and asks “What have you got there?”

Damon brings the object over to her and offers it to her. Taking it, Elena sees that it’s an old leather bound book with beautiful floral patterns stamped into the leather. There’s no title, though. She opens it and finds that all the pages are blank.

“A journal?” she asks him.

Damon shrugs. “You looked like you were a bit lost in thought, and it’s good to write down your thoughts when you’re struggling with them.”

Elena runs her fingers over the patterns reverently. “It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

“It was supposed to be for Stefan.” Elena looks up at him in surprise. He stares out at the woods wistfully.

“Stefan was a sucker for a good journal,” he continues. “He’d write in a new one every year after filling up the last.”

Damon seems very far away, lost in the past. “But his writing days are long passed.”

“Are you sure?” Elena asks softly. “It seems to mean a lot to you.”

Damon slowly shakes his head, still looking out in the woods. He scans the trees, like he’s looking for something specific. Elena looks about them as well, but she doesn’t see anything there.

“Nah, I don’t have any use for it now.” He breaks his focus on the woods to smirk down at her. “I’m not really the ‘Dear Diary’ type.”

“No,” Elena agrees, letting out a soft laugh. “You’re really not. Thank you,” Elena says, wishing there were more she could say. She couldn’t imagine not having her own brother in her life.

Damon smiles again, but it’s smaller now, more sincere. He nods once, then goes back into the house.

Elena takes a deep breath. She knows Damon is hurting, but she has no idea how, or even if, she could help him. She looks at the journal. Finds a pen in its pages. She writes:

_Dear Diary,_

_I wish I knew how to heal a broken heart._

She stops, thinking of Damon’s heart, as well as her own, then continues writing. Once she starts, she finds she can’t stop. Elena writes about her fight with Matt, her fall in the woods. Everything that has happened to her in the last two days. Her thoughts and feelings about her life and about this strange man that fate has brought her to. They all come pouring out onto the page. Elena barely has time to think of them before her hand is already writing them.

She wonders aloud on the page what life she’ll have now that Damon has woken her up, has unlocked her passion for adventure. Maybe she’ll take a gap year before college and just travel around the country in a van. Maybe she’ll travel out to Greece, (like in _Mamma Mia_ she thinks with a smile) spending her time on sunny white islands and the clear blue ocean.

Darkness falls before she realizes it. Her eyes begin to strain to see the pages in the fading light. Blinking, she stands and stretches, joints sore from sitting for so long.

It’s only because of the change in lighting that Elena begins to notice a presence near her, coming from the woods. She stills, looking hard at the trees. There is someone watching her from the trees, but it’s too far and too dark to make out any features. Just a figure, standing there, watching her.

Elena opens her mouth to call for Damon when the figure disappears suddenly. She waits for him to reappear, but then notices a flickering through the trees. It’s a flashlight, or several flashlights, sweeping through the woods. Straining her ears, she hears…dogs?

A thought slips into her mind. _Search party_.

“Elena?” Damon says from the back door. “It’s getting dark, why don’t you come inside?”

She nods, but she doesn’t make to come in. Elena’s attention remains solidly on the search party combing the woods.

“They’re looking for someone…” she mutters out, to Damon or just to herself.

Elena wonders if someone else got lost in the woods just as she did. Or if there’s been another murder. A chill runs down her spine.

“Elena…” Damon says, a hint of a warning creeping into his tone.

“I’ll be in in a moment,” Elena brushes him off.

“…Elena?”

Elena freezes. It wasn’t Damon who just said her name, it came from the trees.

From the search party.

“They’re looking… for me?” Elena whispers out. But that can’t be right. Damon told them where she was. He met with her parents. Didn’t he?

“Come. Inside.” Damon’s tone has changed so suddenly that Elena barely recognizes his voice.

Something in his voice tells her to she needs to listen to him _right now._ (Her mind calls out a danger she can’t quite understand yet.)

“I’m right here, I’m fine,” Elena says aloud, calling to the people looking for her. But they’re still too far away. And Damon is right there, standing next to her.

“Elena!” another voice calls from the woods.

“That’s Sheriff Forbes,” Elena says to Damon, and starts forward towards the tree line. “I’m right here-!”

Damon stops her, grasping her upper arms.

“Stop shouting,” he says, urgently.

Elena twists in his arms, turning to face him. She stares at him incredulously.

“Damon, what-? Why are they looking for me?”

His face contorts in pain, and he doesn’t answer. He just scoops her legs out from under her and quickly starts walking to the house.

“Damon, stop, put me down! They’re looking for me, I have to tell them I’m right here.” She squirms in his arms, but he doesn’t put her down. His grip is like iron. His arms a cage instead of an embrace.

Damon wasn’t ready for this conversation. He thought he had more time. He _needed_ more time. There were loose ends he needed to tie, plans he needed to put in motion. He’d had all day to work with Elena preoccupied, but then the search party had to come just a _bit_ too close to the house and now everything was _ruined_.

Elena, scared and confused, struggles to twist out of his arms. Damon feels his chest constrict when he thinks to how she’d looked at him when she’d heard her name being called.

_Betrayed._

And Damon? Something inside him squirms, an emotion he hasn’t felt for so long it’s hardly recognizable.

 _Guilt_.

But he’d made his bed. And dammit all if he wasn’t going to lie in it.

Once inside, Damon drops Elena on the couch, then stalks back to the door and locks it. He doesn’t turn around to face her. Doesn’t know if he can. He didn’t want it to be like this. If he could’ve just kept her here without her realizing he was forcing her to stay - he could’ve made her happy. She would’ve been happy.

Elena is talking to him, but he can’t hear her. Doesn’t want to hear her. He walks to his whiskey cabinet and picks the bottle with the highest alcohol content, and it feels like running away. He doesn’t want to be sober for this conversation, so he pours his first glass.

Elena is still demanding an answer behind him, still sitting on the couch where he left her. He realizes she can’t get up, cane abandoned on the porch.

“Take me back out there, those people were calling my name!” Elena says with the most venom in her voice Damon has ever heard from her.

“You’re not going back out there.” Damon responds simply, knocking back the entire contents of the tumbler in one shot.

“Why were they looking for me, Damon?” she asks, a wobble in her voice. “You said you told my parents I was fine.”

“I lied.” The words are pulled out of Damon by her. He can’t resist giving her the answer she demands.

Elena looks at him in horror, but Damon turns and pours another glass. He hears her stand (her small gasp of pain from her bad ankle is a knife in his gut), hears her hobble over to the front door. Every step Elena takes away from him hurts Damon, just as it must hurt her.

Damon pours himself another glass and pounds it back.

Damon’s hands curl into fists when he hears her fiddling with the locks. Elena’s hands must be shaking with a heart rate _that_ fast.

He turns and begins slowly walking towards her. While still working on the locks, Elena whips her head back around to see him walking towards her. Damon imagines that he must look every bit the monster he truly is. Though his eyes remain human, nothing giving away his true nature, he _feels_ like a vampire. Elena must sense it, too, her survival instinct kicking her into full fight or flight mode.

Damon doesn’t want her to fight him. So when she finally manages to unlock the door, yanks it open and launches herself through, Damon doesn’t pursue.

For a moment, he thinks he won’t chase after her. Her pain and betrayal clear across her face when he admitted the lie too painful to see again.

Damon wants her to be happy, and maybe that happiness is away from him. He knows she’s stolen his heart, and with it, his happiness, permanently. Every painful step she takes further from the boarding house, closer to escape, feels like a stake pressing deeper into his chest.

For a moment, Damon thinks he has the strength to let her go. The search party will find her soon enough and she’ll be safe - away from his monstrous self.

But then she stumbles and hits the ground _hard._ Damon can smell the blood from where he remains standing frozen in the doorway.

When he strains to hear the search party, he can tell they’ve moved farther from the house, not closer. Her rescue isn’t coming, Damon knows. The scent the dogs had been tracking led them right off the precipice she fell from and into the pit of mud where she sprained her ankle.

Covered in mud, and being carried by Damon, there’s no way she would’ve left a scent back towards the house. Damon knows this, he counted on it.

So if Elena continues to drag herself to the woods, she would be injured and alone. She might die.

Scratch that, with the recent murders in those woods and her luck, she would definitely die.

And _that_ Damon can’t accept.

His need for her to be alive outweighs his want of her happiness, and he finally unfreezes. He only needs a few long strides to make it to her. After her fall, she hadn’t been able to get very far.

When she sees him looming over her she outstretches her arms towards him – a mockery of their first meeting when she reached out for help, for him to stay. Now she only reaches out to keep him away from her. The blood from the shallow scrapes on her palms glisten in the moonlight, its smell so sweet and tempting.

And as much as Elena thinks he’s a monster now, she would be horrified if she saw his true nature. Damon can’t do that to her, not when she’s already so frightened, so disgusted by him already. He may lose her forever if he did.

“Stay away from me Damon!” she cries, and starts shuffling herself backwards.

“You’re hurt,” Damon says sadly, resigned to what he must do next.

“Leave me alone!”

“You’re not going to make it to the search party.”

“Then take me to them!” Elena pleads with him. Her eyes beg him to do what he cannot.

“I… can’t,” Damon says. He just can’t physically bring himself to give Elena away. Fate keeps pushing her towards him. She _needs_ his help, and he could never deny it.

Damon takes her inside again, and Elena morosely realizes her earlier assessment of the boarding house was correct. It’s now her prison more than ever.

Damon carries her, and suppresses her movements easily, even though she thrashes with all her strength. He kicks the front door shut and hauls her, flailing limbs and all, up the stairs.

“Damon, listen to me,” Elena babbles. “Just let me go. Let me go!”

Damon walks silently, eyes set firmly forward. He kicks the door shut to his bedroom and dumps her on his bed. Finally out of his tight hold on her, she scrambles across the bed and to the opposite side of the room. Her ankle must be struggling to hold her weight, but she can’t feel it right now, and decides to deal with it after the adrenaline wears off (hopefully when she’s safe, and away from Damon).

Damon opens the drawer of his night stand where he pulls out a pair of silver handcuffs (in any other situation, Elena would’ve laughed and teased him for being kinky). The sight of the metal cuffs makes her go cold, and press herself to the wall opposite from him.

“Come here, Elena,” Damon says coolly. His face is stony, unreadable. He doesn’t approach her. Just waits for her to come to him.

There’s something even worse about him not moving towards her. Like a serial killer walking slowly instead of running, because he knows he can always catch the victim.

Elena looks around the room and her mind races to figure out any sort of weapon or escape. Damon stands next to the bed, between her and the door. He would be too fast for her to go around him the long way, and her other path is blocked by the bed (she is _not_ getting back on that bed willingly). Elena peeks over her shoulder through the window, probably her best shot.

Damon says her next thoughts aloud, still able to pick them from her mind. “Don’t you dare jump out that window. It’s way too high and you’d probably break several bones from the fall.”

He still stands in the middle of the room, waiting for her to make the first move.

Elena contemplates the window for one more moment before deciding it’s too risky. She glances back at Damon, then notices the light of the bathroom spilling out towards them from the corner of her eye. She makes her decision in a split second, not looking at the bathroom so she doesn’t give her thoughts away again.

Elena lunges forward, as if she were going to try to clear the bed and make it to the door, and Damon anticipates this move, climbing onto the bed himself. But Elena switches her direction rapidly, dashing as fast as she can for the bathroom door.

Her ruse distracts Damon long enough that she’s able to cross the threshold, slam the door, and hit the lock before Damon crashes into the door.

“Elena!” Damon shouts at her through the door. The door shudders from Damon’s fury, shaking Elena as she presses her whole weight against it, praying it will hold long enough for her to think of something else.

“Elena, I will break this door down,” Damon promises through the shut door. “Get out of the way.”

Elena doesn’t humor him with a response and surveys the room. There are two large windows in the bathroom, but to get to either one she’d have to leave the door unblocked, which would then give Damon an opportunity to knock it down without her getting hurt in the process. (In the back of her mind, she thinks how strange it is that he’s not willing to hurt or endanger her.)

The bathtub is far too heavy for her to move herself, but there is a dresser to her left she figures she can use to fortify the door.

“You won’t be able to run and hide,” Damon says roughly from behind the door. “I will find you.”

Risking the few seconds of leaving the door unguarded, Elena runs to the dresser, heaving her weight against it with all her might. It scoots across the floor, screeching loudly against the tile.

“Stay away from the door, Elena!” Damon shouts, realizing she’s barricading it.

Elena manages one final push, and the dresser is pressed firmly against the door, giving her maybe a few more minutes to escape.

Damon’s first kick makes a cracking, splintering sound, and the lock breaks through the doorframe, slamming the door into the dresser and pushing them both a couple inches back.

Make that a few more seconds.

Elena runs to the window. Wrenching it open, it mercifully glides easily. Elena throws her upper body through the window, and seeing a small roof under this part of the house, she starts climbing through the rest of the way. She’s almost there, almost _free_ –

Strong hands grab her legs and yank her back inside. They land together, sprawling and limbs tangled. Their position reminds Elena of how they woke up that very morning - a parody of lovers twisted up in each other.

“No, no!” she cries, trying to right herself and drag herself back to the window.

But Damon’s will is stronger. He carries her back to the bed seemingly without effort, and easily clasps the metal cuff shut.

Defeated and chained to the bedpost, Elena stops thrashing. (Besides, Damon has withdrawn from the bed and is too far away to punch now.)

He sits on a chair by the door, looking as handsome as ever, even more so in his disheveled state. It’s really not fair, Elena thinks. That he should look so stunningly attractive while hiding the monster underneath. If he were ugly, maybe this would hurt less.

Elena feels absolutely wrecked. Drained of energy and adrenaline, the abuse she put her ankle through catches up to her and makes it throb.

Closing her eyes, she breathes. Readjusts to a more comfortable position so her arm doesn’t go numb. Then breathes.

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out –_

“So,” Damon says, interrupting her meditation.

Elena opens her eyes and glares at him. (If only looks could really kill, he’d be dead a thousand times over.)

“So,” she parrots back to him.

Damon grimaces and runs a hand over his face. Elena scoffs – unbelievable. She’s the one being held hostage and he has the _nerve_ to be frustrated with _her_.

“Why did you lie.” Elena spits out between clenched teeth.

Leaning forward, elbows propping him up against his thighs, he looks at her. Elena thrusts her chin higher, bravado flaring under his scrutiny.

“I just,” he starts, but pauses, seeming unsure of himself. Elena is baffled at how flustered he’s acting. How could he not have known she would ask that when she found out? That she would see through his façade eventually?

“Your ankle is hurt, just stay a few more days until it’s healed.” Damon offers her. But Elena doesn’t bite.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Damon.”

He sighs, which only fuels her anger. (If she could get him to lean forward just a little more, she _might_ be able to kick him.)

“There’s something I don’t understand, and I just need time to figure it out.” Damon tries to explain. His eyes are open and honest, like he’s begging her to accept it as truth.

“Oh, I see,” Elena snaps. “Well then, is there anything else I can do to help you _understand_ other than, I don’t know, _be held captive_?”

Damon hangs his head, shaking it back and forth. Elena tries another route.

“Damon, please,” she says, as sweetly as she can muster. “I want to go home. I want my parents to know I’m alive. Can I please leave?”

Damon gets up and cradles her face, gazing at her with sweet, sad eyes. Elena deliberately leans into his hands, closing her eyes in a guise of trust.

“No.” Damon says. A simple statement of fact.

Damon is not letting Elena go.

Elena’s eyes shoot open, surprised.

“Please,” she breathes out, her bluff slipping from her and revealing the despair underneath.

“Shh,” Damon soothes her, thumbs stroking her face softly.

The tears come anyways. (When will they stop coming? All she does these days is cry.)

“You’re safe with me,” Damon assures her. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Her hands come up between them, caught between trying to push him away and needing something to hold onto.

“You’re going to be okay,” Damon continues, rubbing her back. The effect is comforting. (Elena hates it.)

“Stop,” Elena cries. Stop touching her. Stop comforting her. He’s the problem, the reason she cries.

Damon’s hands still. (How strange that he complies with this request, when he denies the ones she needs the most.)

He moves away from her, but it’s not enough. She doesn’t want to be in the same room as him, the same house as him.

Elena curls up on her side as comfortably as she can with her wrist chained, keeping Damon in sight. As if her gaze alone could keep him at bay.

Through teary eyes, she watches Damon leave the room, then come back with his drink and sit down. He watches her, and she watches him. (What a miserable Mexican standoff.)

He drinks.

She blinks.

Elena’s eyelids are heavy though, weary from near exhaustion. Before she can pinch herself to stay awake, sleep takes her.

Damon wakes with an empty bottle of whisky and a pounding headache. Sleeping in the arm chair was by no means comfortable, but it let him keep himself between Elena and the door if she did manage to get out of the handcuffs. He rolls his head to stretch his stiff neck.

“Oh, did the poor psychopath not sleep well?” Elena says from where she sits on the bed.

“I slept great, thanks for asking,” Damon retorts. “How did you sleep? Any carnal dreams of me?”

Elena blushes, as much as he’s sure she doesn’t want to. Damon smirks, glad he still holds her interest in one form. He can work with that, and he files the thought away for later.

“Let me go, Damon,” Elena orders. Damon groans, still hungover.

“You are in no position to be making demands. In fact, I can show you some more…comfortable positions.” Damon smirks and wags his eyebrows at her.

Elena narrows her eyes at him, not amused. “Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone. I _swear_. I’ll just tell them I freaked out at the party and decided to run away for a bit, take a road trip to clear my head.”

An intriguing idea, Damon notes. He pretends to consider it for a moment, make it seem like he’s being reasonable.

“Sure, you could tell them that,” Damon starts. Elena leans forward, nodding, hope in her eyes.

“When you’re ankle is healed,” he finishes. “No one is going to believe you ‘took a road trip’ when you’re sporting that injury.”

Elena huffs in frustration and slumps back against the pillows.

“Why am I here, Damon?” Elena says, exasperated. The guilt in his gut bubbles up his throat, forcing him to give her what little answer he can right now.

“You…remind me of someone. I don’t understand it, but I’m working on figuring it out.”

“Is it your Ex?” Elena guesses. “What was her name… Katherine?”

Damon’s heart still clenches at her name. Katherine’s betrayal stings, still fresh, though dulled by Elena’s presence. He nods, but he needs her to know it’s not just her resemblance to his old flame. How can he put this?

“It’s not just that,” he says carefully, guarding himself against her reaction. “I just want to know you.” (And why you look exactly like Katherine, but are somehow her complete polar opposite, Damon amends to himself.)

“How long will that take?” Elena throws her arms in the air, though the handcuff keeps her one arm in place. “I’ll tell you every single fact about myself right now if you let me go.”

Rubbing his eyes, Damon shakes his head. “It’s more than that.”

(Can’t she see? That she’s captured his heart, that she’s enthralled him? That he can’t stop until she belongs to him completely?)

That puts them at an impasse. Elena pauses for a minute, and Damon waits for her to figure out her next question.

“Do I ever get to get out of the handcuffs?”

Damon smiles, grateful it’s an easier question for him to answer.

“If you behave and promise not to run.”

Elena frowns.

“I promise I will not try to run from the crazy man who has kidnapped me,” she says, deadpan.

“Hey, you asked for _my_ help, remember? Miss ‘I’m gonna run into the woods and twist my ankle,’” Damon quips back.

Elena retreats into herself, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them with one arm – buries her face behind her hair. Damon wishes she wouldn’t. Wishes he could tilt her face up to him so he could revel in every little emotion, every piece of her she reveals to him through those deep brown eyes.

Quietly and without looking up, so the question comes out muffled, she asks, “Are you going to kill me?”

Damon shivers, her words bringing up pictures of himself standing over her broken body, or drinking from her until she’s dry. He banishes the images from his head, disgusted by even the thought of it.

Damon stands and slowly approaches her, as if she were a wounded, frightened animal. (His sweet little bird with a broken wing.)

(He hopes she’ll never fly away.)

He kneels down next to the bed so his eyes are level with hers.

“Look at me, please,” Damon whispers.

Elena slowly lifts her head from her knees to look at him, and there are tears in her eyes, breaking her calm facade. (Damon wonders if she knows what her tearful expression does to him, how it spills over him like acid.)

Damon can’t help but crumple inwardly. Why wouldn’t she think he would kill her? He must seem so dangerous to her – though he’s done everything in his power to show her she’s safe with him.

He brings his hand up to touch her face, but Elena flinches back. His hand hangs in the air like an unfinished sentence.

Damon drops it and says somberly, “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Elena stares at him for a long minute. He worries if she looks too deep, she’ll see every horrible thing he’s ever done, and be forever lost to him.

But to Damon’s surprise, Elena seems to take his word for it and nods. She worries her lip between her teeth, though.

“How many times have you done this?” she asks timidly.

Damon smiles ruefully. As if he would’ve done this before. As if anyone had ever come close to catching his affections the way he has. (Deep inside him, he knows not even Katherine had compared.)

“It’s just you,” he tells her.

Elena looks at him, and he can tell she’s confused by this, by _him._ But Damon doesn’t think he can answer any more of her cutting questions. He worries she’ll cut too deep, and not like what she finds.

Thankfully he’s given himself an escape from the rest of the conversation. “I have someone I need to go meet,” he explains. Damon plucks Elena’s phone from the nightstand. “You don’t mind if I borrow this, right?”

Elena gives him a withering look.

“Like I have a choice.”

“Your cooperation is appreciated,” Damon smirks. “You sit tight and be good now.”

As he walks out of the room, Elena throws a pillow at him, which, of course, he ducks.

The witch insists they meet in a Starbucks. Damon had tried to complain, but she wouldn’t hear it, praising their free Wi-Fi, comfy couches, and vanilla chai lattes.

Though, when Damon gets there and orders himself one, he finds the drink quite tasty.

(Elena would’ve laughed and poked his shoulder if she were here, then would’ve demanded a sip for herself.)

He takes a seat in the corner and glares at anyone who tries to approach him.

The witch – April – arrives shortly afterwards, toting a laptop and her own latte. She smiles at him and sits down.

“So, you need another favor? You still owe us from helping you open that tomb you know.” April’s fingers tap her laptop.

Damon would’ve found it quite annoying if he hadn’t developed an affection for the witch. She, and her whole coven, had really stuck their necks out for him when he asked them to open an entire tomb full of thirsty vampires.

But he’s built a reputation with this coven for this very reason, helping them out here and there so that they’d be willing to do the same if he asked. Which he did, and then it was all for none when he found out Katherine wasn’t even there. And now he was asking another favor, one much more important to him than the last.

Damon sighs, “You need anything from me, I’m there. And this favor,” he slips Elena’s phone from his pocket and holds it out to April, “shouldn’t take nearly as much effort.”

April’s eyes light up and she snatches the phone from Damon’s hands. “I’m glad you finally realized where my true talent lies.” Before Damon even starts to explain, she already has plugged the phone into her laptop and started running a program to break the passcode.

“Yes, you’re a very talented hacker, April. But I also need a touch of your witchy powers.”

April rolls her eyes and continues tapping at her keyboard. “What’s this favor then?”

“I need you to make it look like the owner of this phone has skipped town, gone on a cross-country road trip.”

(Thank you, Elena, for that helpful idea.)

“Can you make yourself look like her, hitchhike a couple states over, and maybe post a few Instagram pictures on your way?”

“Sure,” April says, sipping her coffee. “Though, I’ll need some funds if I’m going out of state.”

Damon waves her off. “Cost isn’t an issue. What will it take for you to disguise yourself as this girl?”

April goes into the photos app of Elena’s phone and scrolls through a few pictures she finds. The one she lands on shows three girls smiling at the camera, Elena in the middle. April points to her and asks, “This her?”

Damon nods.

“What do you need?”

“Just a blood sample – a couple ounces of it. It’s a pretty easy spell.”

Damon nods again and finishes his coffee. This really is too easy, Damon thinks. Another push of fate towards getting to keep Elena to himself.

“I’ll have it to you in the next few days.”

Elena waits on the bed. She’s tried everything to get out of the handcuff, but short of taking her own hand off, she’s out of ideas. There’s nothing in her reach she could use to pry it open or pick the lock with. So, she resigns herself to just waiting and thinking.

Elena considers her options. She could fight Damon, tooth and nail, but obviously he’s got the upper hand on her physically. This would also mean it would take her ankle to heal much longer if she’s constantly using it. So the fighting option is out.

She could cooperate. Gain his trust, then trick him into giving her an opening to escape. Though, he seems to read her thoughts and intentions easily.

But perhaps…if she were to seduce him? Get him to drop his guard?

Her cheeks warm, and just like that she’s thinking of how Damon had felt pressed against her, _inside_ her.

No, Elena thinks, that wouldn’t be the worst method.

There’s another possibility, though. She’s read about a supposed Stockholm Syndrome, where kidnapping victims develop feelings of trust and affection for their captors.

Her stomach lurches. Damon’s deception still infuriates her, and she can’t imagine ever trusting him, or loving him, after what he’s done to her.

Elena hears the door creak open, assumes it’s Damon.

“Damon, get your ass up here,” Elena shouts. “You didn’t leave me any food!”

She waits, but hears no response. Instead, she hears footsteps slowly ascending the staircase.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Shivers run down her spine at the silence that follows her voice.

When the footsteps finally reach her door, and a figure appears in the doorway. It’s a man. With a start, Elena realizes she saw him before, in the woods staring at her.

He has sandy brown hair and green eyes that widen when they lock on to her. He stalks towards her, cocking his head to the side.

His movements are lithe and fluid. Elena gets the distinct feeling he is dangerous - not just from lack of response, but the way he approaches her like a lion stalking prey.

“C-can you help me?” she stutters out anyways. “I’m being held against my will.” Elena jostles the cuff on her wrist and leans as far back from the stranger as she can, shuffling backwards across the bed.

The stranger sits at the edge of the bed and takes a long, languid look down and back up her body. He isn’t distressed by the cuff, which is strange, and it makes Elena feel very vulnerable.

“You’re human,” he finally says. And there is something very wrong about that statement that Elena doesn’t want to think about (because that means that he isn’t).

“Yes? What else would I be?”

“You’re not one to play stupid Katherine,” the stranger responds, eyes narrowing at her.

“Katherine? Damon called me that too, I’m not,” Elena rushes through the words, heart pounding.

“Not?” the stranger questions, cocking his head again.

“I’m not Katherine, my name is Elena Gilbert,” she tries again.

“Elena…” he says, as if tasting the name on his tongue.

“A-and you are?” Elena tries.

“Stefan,” he says. He continues to leisurely drag his eyes down her body, across her face.

“Then you’re Damon’s brother?” Elena tries to think back to what Damon had told her. “You and him don’t see eye to eye anymore, something about a girl?”

Stefan acts as if he hasn’t even heard her, and leans into her. Elena stills, unable to move any further with the cuff cutting into her wrist.

His nose brushes her neck, and she brings her free hand up to push at his chest. It’s immovable, though, as if she’s pushing on a wall.

Elena hears Stefan take a deep inhale, and then feels his warm exhale on her collarbone. She shivers despite the warmth of his breath, chills running up her spine.

“Please, he’s keeping me here against my will. Can you help me escape?” Elena tries again, desperate and terrified.

Stefan leans back, cryptically blank-faced, but he does nod. It brings little comfort to Elena, though.

“There must be a key around here somewhere, I think he might’ve put it-“ Elena is interrupted by Stefan simply reaching up and snapping the cuff into two pieces.

Elena stares at it, boggled. She’d been pulling on it for hours without any give. But she supposes Stefan is pretty well built…

“Thank you, Stefan,” Elena sighs in relief. “I can’t walk very well with my ankle like this, do you think you could help me?” Elena worries about trusting Stefan, but she has no other options.

Stefan, to her surprise, gives her a charming smile. “Of course, Elena.”

The smile completely changes his face. At once, Elena notices how green his eyes are, and the fear she felt just moments before melts away in an instant. She relaxes and leans towards him.

“Let me help you stand up.”

Stefan runs his hands down her shoulder, past her arm, and settles it on her hip. Elena finds she enjoys the weight of it.

Elena gratefully accepts his help. How did she not realize how handsome he was before? Why was she scared of him in the first place?

“Thank you,” she tells him, leaning closer to him. Stefan accepts her in his arms, pulling her into an embrace.

“Come with me.” Stefan helps her shuffle down the hall, and she can’t help but stare into his eyes. So _green_.

“Elena… you’re so different from her,” Stefan stops walking, so Elena does too.

She hums distantly, and looks around the room, realizing they moved further down the hall instead of towards the stairs, into the previously locked room.

Panic wedges itself into her chest, breaking through her calm.

“Aren’t you tired?” Stefan’s voice is soft, and honey sweet. The panic dissipates.

Elena nods, yawns, and lets her heavy eyelids fall shut.

Stefan turns Elena in his arms, putting her back into his chest. She can’t remember what she was just asking Stefan for, but it was awfully kind of him to help her.

His nose against her neck pulls a memory to the surface, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. Stefan’s breath makes her skin tingle, and Elena tilts her head to the side.

“Don’t move,” Stefan says right into her ear, and Elena’s muscles lock in place. The sleepy feeling turns uncomfortable, as if her head has been stuffed with cotton.

“Stefan-?” Elena calls out, just as a pain blossoms at the junction between her neck and shoulder.

It’s sharp, and it _aches_.

She’s ten again, swimming in a lake, and then crying as her dad pulls leeches off her legs. The sucking, pulling feeling returns her to the present, and it’s Stefan’s _mouth_ she realizes, not a leech. But she can’t convince her muscles to move, trapped as Stefan sucks greedily at her blood.

A loud _BANG_ startles Elena, and she finally manages to get her eyelids to open.

Stefan rips his lips off her throat. They both see Damon standing in the doorway, looking absolutely murderous.

“Hey brother,” Stefan says casually. Elena feels the blood still pulsing out of her neck, dripping off her collarbone and down her shirt.

“Damon, he’s a vampire!” she cries. Damon may have kidnapped her, but Elena finds she prefers the devil she knows to the monster she doesn’t.

Stefan’s tongue laps at her wound, and Elena swears she can hear Damon growl.

“When were you going to tell me you were keeping a little snack?”

“I wasn’t planning on sharing. If you bite her again I will kill you,” Damon says through gritted teeth.

“No, you can never share, can you?” Stefan says, tone turning sour. “I thought you actually did it, you know. You finally found our Katherine after so long.”

Elena helplessly stares at Damon, still unable to move. Stefan strokes his fingers down her waist and onto her hip. Damon’s eyes flare with rage.

Damon lurches forward to take a step towards them, but Stefan’s other hand curls around Elena’s neck.

“I’m not,” Elena sobs out.

“No,” Stefan agrees sympathetically. “So human, so fragile.”

“You wouldn’t kill her,” Damon spits. “She has nothing to do with Katherine.”

“Then why, dear brother, is she here? Being held prisoner, by you?” Stefan asks, genuine interest in his voice.

Elena looks at Damon sharply. _Why?_

Damon stares at her with such pain, she knows he wants to tell her something, so badly.

Stefan tightens his hand around her neck, and Elena cries out.

“I’m waiting,” Stefan croons, inching his mouth back towards her throat.

“Just curious. Same as you are, brother,” Damon responds, acid in his voice. “I’m just wondering why the hell she looks like Katherine.”

“It is strange, and I suppose it would be more fun to keep her alive,” Stefan ponders.

Tears slip over Elena’s cheeks. In the short time she’s been with Damon, she’d never felt this close to danger. To death.

Stefan releases his hold on her. Without his grasp holding her up, the spell keeping her muscles locked breaks, and she crumples to the ground.

Through the pain, she sees Damon’s eyes become dark, veins crawling out from them, and she screams and crawls as far back as she can. Her wet shoulder stings now, and she grips it as hard as she can with the opposite hand.

(She’s pointing at a medical textbook while her dad explains the importance of _putting pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding._ )

The two brothers become a blur of motion that Elena’s eyes can’t track until they crash into a wall. Stefan has Damon pinned, baring his teeth at him and snarling like an animal.

Elena shrieks, and claps a hand over her mouth, realizing the need to stay out of sight of the _two_ vampires _in the room_ with her.

But her shriek draws Damon’s attention, and she cowers back from his gaze. Damon’s brow furrows in fury, and he slips free from Stefan’s hold, becoming a blur again as the two tangle.

They streak out of the room and Elena hears crashing down the stairs. Furniture being thrown and smashed downstairs.

Then everything goes quiet. Elena wonders what happened, but is nowhere near curious enough to go out to look. Her instincts tell her the best thing to do is _stay put_ , don’t draw attention to herself.

There are two vampires in the house who could kill her very easily.

She brings her knees as tightly to her chest as she can with her arm still crossed over her chest, gripping her wound.

She almost laughs out loud, though, when she realizes she wasn’t just being held captive. She was being kept by a _vampire_. And she thought she had a _chance_ of escaping. What an idiot she was.

She hears another loud bang from even further below her. An instant later, Damon is in the room again, and she gasps, pressing herself further into her corner.

Damon approaches her at human speed and lowers himself onto one knee a foot away from her, hand outstretched. He’s doesn’t have any marks on him, even though he was just crashing through furniture.

“S-stay away from me,” Elena whispers out, unable to even fake bravado.

“You’re bleeding, Elena,” Damon says back to her quietly. “Let me help you.”

“You’re a vampire too,” Elena says, shaking her head.

“I swear I won’t hurt you,” Damon says, sincerity clear across his face.

But Elena still refuses to move. She can’t go towards Damon. He’s the danger, the monster who lives in the darkness, the nightmare plaguing her dreams. She squeezes her eyes shut, wishing she was only caught in a nightmare.

“He was going to kill me,” Elena breathes out, barely audible.

“He’s gone now, I stopped him. He can’t hurt you anymore,” Damon says, trying desperately to comfort her.

His hand touches her knee, and she can’t bring herself to pull away from the touch. She needs the comfort, badly. After Damon sees she isn’t pushing him away, he pulls her towards and into him, wrapping his body around her.

And then she can’t hold back her sobs. Elena knows she shouldn’t be taking comfort in her captor. But she almost _died_ and there’s no one else.

She can’t go home, and she can’t ever unlearn that vampires exist. And she met two of them at once because she has the worst luck ever.

“Why is this happening to me?” she breathes out, her chest still shaking with sobs she can’t control.

Damon holds her tighter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says. He repeats this to her for every sob, and eventually Elena becomes subdued.

She feels underwater, her thoughts quiet. She stares blankly ahead.

When Damon goes to move her, she lets her body go limp. What’s the point in fighting a vampire?

Damon sets Elena up in the bathroom. Though Elena managed to slow the bleeding with her hand, she can still feel her blood pumping slowly out through the wound. Her arm is sore from how tightly she clutched it against her chest. Her hand is sticky from where the blood hit the air and partially dried.

Damon brings a small bucket of warm water and a washcloth over to her. He kneels in front of her and works quickly removing the excess blood, only moving her hand away from her shoulder once it’s mostly clear of blood so that he can place gauze and tape over it.

Elena’s hand falls into her lap, covered in blood. She stares at it distantly, trying to remember if she’s ever seen this much of her own blood outside her body (excluding periods). She doesn’t think she has.

Damon goes to wipe the blood off her hand, but she snatches it away and glares at him. He sets the washcloth down and waits.

At his patient, impassive expression, Elena’s feels her stomach burn with rage. She shoots her arm forward, splaying her fingers out and displaying her bloodied palm in front of Damon’s face. He doesn’t even flinch, which only makes her more angry.

“Don’t you want some of me, too? Is that what I am, just a meal for you?!” She shouts, unable to control the vitriol in her voice, not sure if she even wants to.

“You never were,” Damon says, taking her hand in his.

He turns it over in his hands, and Elena lets him, curious what he’ll do.

He bends his head down to the blood on her palm, and her stomach lurches, fully expecting Damon to lick the blood off it.

Damon surprises her, only pressing a soft kiss.

Her chest aches. Elena remembers when did this before, what felt like a lifetime ago, but was only yesterday morning.

When Damon looks up at her, he still has human eyes, no veins. The blood on his lips remains there until he wipes it away with his sleeve.

“I. Will never. Hurt you.” Damon punctuates the phrase, staring at her hard. To Elena’s surprise, she believes him.

“Why can you resist?” Elena digs at him.

“Most of us have a higher level of control than my brother,” Damon explains. “He’s…”

“Insane?” Elena snaps.

Damon frowns, looking away. “Yeah. There’s no humanity left in him.”

“How did he…” Elena struggles with her words. “He made me… I couldn’t move!”

Damon nods. “Compulsion. We use it to control humans.” The word he uses tugs at her brain, but she can’t place it.

“So you can do it, too.” It’s not a question, but Damon nods nonetheless. Elena almost doesn’t want to ask her next question, the possibilities of answers scaring her.

“Why didn’t you do it to me?” Elena spits out.

Damon drops her hand and takes her face in his hands, eyes piercing hers.

“I wanted it to be real.” Damon holds her gaze, looking as if he wants, or _needs_ , her to believe him.

And hell if that answer doesn’t confuse Elena more.

Another question pops into her head and passes through her lips before she can stop it.

“Was it you killing all those people in the woods?”

“No,” Damon shakes his head. “But I think we both just figured out who was.”

Elena believes that too. The way Stefan seemed out of control. The way he stared at her from the woods.

(For a moment, Elena thinks about how lucky she is that it was Damon who found her, and not Stefan.)

That only leaves Elena with one final, burning question.

“Who is Katherine?”

Damon shakes his head.

“No,” Elena pushes him. “You _owe_ this to me. If Katherine is the reason you and Stefan are so damn interested in me, then I deserve to know why. It’s the least you can do.”

Damon thinks a long time, then leaves.

Elena, disappointed, let’s one long sigh out.

But he returns and presents her with a picture. It’s labelled _Katherine, 1864_ and the woman in it is Elena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told ya it was gonna be angsty. Comments fuel my inspiration and make chapters come faster!


	3. Emptiness and Clarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty heavy and deals with thoughts of depression and suicide. Elena is out of it by the end, but please don’t read if that’s too much for you right now. We’re in a crazy world right now and I’d love to help provide an escape from that, but if it’s only going to make you feel worse please skip those sections. I’ve put *** at the beginning and end of the 2 sections that deal with depression/suicide for those who need it.  
> And if you need someone to talk to please reach out to those around you. Either text/call your local hotline, reach out to a friend, or feel free to comment on this chapter or send a private message my tumblr (starlight-writes).  
> Take care of yourselves <3

Elena stares at the faded photograph of herself.

It has to be a fake, she thinks. There’s no way this could’ve been taken in 1864. The woman in the photograph looks exactly like Elena, but there’s no way it could be of her. Elena has never worn her hair like that, nor owned such an antique looking necklace. And she’s certainly never had an old timey portrait taken of her.

Elena turns the picture towards Damon, who’s just been staring at her and the picture, waiting for the response.

“This is real?” she asks him.

Damon’s brows pinch together. Slowly, he nods his head.

“So then… you’ve been alive since 1864?”

Damon suddenly laughs aloud, raking his hand through his hair.

“What’s so funny?” Elena asks, upset she’s being laughed at.

Damon’s eyes glint with humor, but also stare at her in wonder.

“It’s just that, you see a picture of your exact twin taken 150 years ago, and you wonder about my age?” Damon laughs again, shaking his head. “You’ve got some weird priorities, considering you just discovered vampires exist.”

“Well excuse me,” Elena says defensively, crossing her arms. “You just look so –“

“Handsome?” Damon suggests, smirking and leaning closer to her.

“Young.” Elena juts out her chin in defiance. Just having him so close to her is enough to make her face flush.

“Mhmm,” Damon hums. “Elena, did you know that vampires have enhanced hearing?”

Elena shakes her head, suspicious.

“Yep,” he says, grinning devilishly. “Which means I know not only that you’re blushing because of me, but your heart is fluttering adorably.”

“Maybe that’s just because I’m scared to death because not only are you holding me captive, but you’re apparently a blood sucking leech, too,” Elena spits back.

(It’s a lie, they both know it, but hell if Elena is just gonna give right in to his seduction.)

Damon frowns, displaying a mockery of hurt feelings.

“You wound me, Elena,” he says, clutching his chest. “Even though I don’t have a heartbeat, I still have feelings.”

“If you had feelings,” Elena bites, “you’d _feel_ guilty for keeping me here against my will and _let me go_.”

Damon waves his hand, dismissing her.

“Or maybe,” he says, continuing his earlier train of thought, “you’re even more attracted to me now. Remember that danger you crave? I’ve got all the danger you could ever need right here.” Damon gestures to himself.

“You’re a psychopath. That’s not exactly _my type_.”

“Oh?” Damon says smirking. “And here I thought your type was tall, dark, handsome, and someone that makes you come the second night after meeting them.”

“Stop trying to seduce me, Damon. It’s not going to work.” Elena narrows her eyes and _wills_ her heart to beat evenly.

“But it already did,” Damon replies. “I’m sure we’ll get there again. But we’re off topic.” Damon picks up the picture next to Elena and waves it. “You’re her spitting image.”

Elena can’t help but agree with him. She doesn’t just remind Damon of Katherine – she’s her exact copy. No wonder he and Stefan both mistook her for Katherine.

“So why do I look like her, Damon?”

“I don’t know. If I did…” Damon trails off.

“Would you let me go?” Elena questions, hopeful.

“Probably not,” Damon says quickly, dashing her hopes. “But I’ve been trying to figure it out. I thought Katherine hadn’t had any children, but there’s no other explanation.”

“That’s how you knew I was adopted?” Elena realizes. Damon nods. That conversation felt like a lifetime ago, like it happened to two completely different people.

“It’s possible you’re a descendant of Katherine,” Damon continues. “But we don’t know anything that would connect you to her otherwise.”

“My parents never told me who my birth parents were. If you let me go, I could go ask them,” Elena tries.

Damon’s already shaking his head before she even finishes her sentence.

“Not gonna happen,” he says firmly. “Even if they knew your birth parents, it’s doubtful they could trace your lineage back anyways.”

Elena thinks for a moment.

“Who was Katherine? What was so special about her?”

Damon thinks about something for a moment. Elena can see him debating whether or not to tell her something.

“You really want to know what happened with Katherine?” Damon questions, eyes boring into hers. Elena nods, needing to understand. Maybe if she knew the details of Damon’s past, if she understood Damon better, she would somehow figure out how to get her freedom back.

“Then we should get settled in,” Damon says with a sigh. He helps her up off the bathroom floor and to the bedroom. He motions for her to sit down on the bed, but she just purses her lips, shakes her head, and chooses the chair instead. Damon shrugs and sits on the bed himself.

“I met Katherine in 1864,” Damon starts. “My father took her in after she spun some story about being orphaned by a fire, and she came to stay with us at the old Salvatore Estate. She played me and my brother. Stefan on her arm one night and me in her bed the next. We didn’t know, we both thought Katherine was only ours.”

Elena scrunches her face. “She sounds awful,” Elena tells him.

Damon shakes his head. “She was sexy and seductive, and she knew what she wanted and how to get it. She was complicated, and very often selfish and unkind. It didn’t matter, though, I fell for her nonetheless.

“But she died – killed in a fire - and Stefan and I were…shot.” Damon grimaces, remembering a phantom pain.

“She had made us vampires, as she had promised to do. But without her… we were alone. Distraught. I had hoped we could figure it out together – at least eternity wouldn’t be miserable with my brother beside me. But Stefan…” Damon trails off, lost in the past.

“He couldn’t handle the idea of Katherine being gone forever. He flipped the switch – shut off his humanity and sunk into his bloodlust,” Damon tells her. He picks at a piece of lint on his pants, avoiding Elena’s eyes.

While Elena’s still angry with Damon, her heart goes out to him as she listens to his story. How lonely he must have felt. Eternity ahead of him but no one to spend it with. 150 years he’d been alone.

“But then I discovered that Katherine hadn’t died in the fire. She was sealed in a tomb instead. I enlisted a whole coven of witches to help me get her out,” Damon smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“She wasn’t there. In the tomb.” Damon doesn’t look at Elena. She wonders if it’s ever painful for him to look at her and see the ghost of his former love.

“Katherine was alive the whole time, and she never came to find me.” Damon barks out a laugh, but it’s laced with pain. “Hell, she didn’t even come back for Stefan.”

“And then I found you, the very night I opened the tomb. You were just, there.” Damon finally looks at her, wonder in his eyes.

He pushes himself off the bed and before she can blink he’s in front of her, kneeling and looking up at her. Elena startles, and leans back, but Damon just grabs her hands.

“You landed into my life just when I…” Damon cuts himself off. But he keeps staring into her eyes, as if willing her to understand without finishing his sentence.

She thinks for a long minute after he finishes his story. Elena tries to see his perspective, tries to understand him. She thinks through it again.

Elena starts to see pieces of the puzzle that makes up Damon clicking together. She still can’t see the greater image it makes up, though. The big answer to the question of why Damon is keeping Elena against her will.

If Damon was just lonely, she would understand why he wants her around, but it doesn’t explain him keeping her captive. Lonely people don’t just kidnap other people.

Besides, Damon could probably have any girl he wants. With his looks, it would just be a matter of sauntering up to a bar and seducing some pretty college girl.

So why is he so obsessed with Elena?

Obviously it started with her looking like Katherine, but once he realized how different they were, it couldn’t have just been for that reason. There’s something about her, specifically, that Elena can’t put her finger on. Something that drove Damon to kidnapping.

Whatever it is eludes her for the moment.

Filing that away for later, Elena decides to ask Damon another question, one he’ll have an easier time of answering, she hopes.

“Did you kill Stefan?” Elena asks Damon suddenly. He looks shocked, (as if he’s offended she would think he could kill his brother) and pulls his hands away, dropping hers.

“No,” Damon responds, frowning. “I…locked him up and incapacitated him.”

“How?” Elena asks. If Damon can incapacitate Stefan, that means vampires have weaknesses that Elena can exploit. Weaknesses Elena can use against Damon.

Damon narrows his eyes. He sees through her innocent question to her true motives.

“I’ll deal with Stefan. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you again.”

Elena grimaces. She’ll have to find out on her own, she supposes.

“You said… he turned off his humanity?” Elena asks. Damon nods.

“Vampires can just switch off their emotions. Makes it easier to be killers.”

Damon doesn’t seem to have switched off his humanity though. Elena thinks he feels too much, with his obsession for her.

“Is there any humanity left in Stefan?” she asks, hoping she could find it. Maybe if she could, he could be her ticket to freedom. As much as she hates the idea of setting family against each other, it may be her only option.

Damon shakes his head, but Elena sees the faintest sign of hope in him, a glimmer in his eyes. He still believes in Stefan, she can tell.

“But you won’t hurt me?” Elena asks again.

“Never,” Damon emphasizes.

“You’re hurting me by keeping me,” she tries.

“On the contrary your ankle is healing quite nicely,” Damon points out.

“Then what’s stopping me from walking right out that door when my ankle is healed?” Elena asks.

Damon can’t believe the nerve of this girl. This _human_ girl. She just got a chunk taken out of her neck and she still has the _gall_ to think she could just walk out the front door freely.

Elena needs to be taught a lesson about vampires, Damon thinks.

“You can try to run,” Damon says. He stands and pulls her out of her chair. Elena gives him a curious look, but he just turns her away from him and nudges her, pushing her forward.

Damon needs to show her who he is, what he really is. Before he was scared to show her his true nature, for fear of losing her forever. Now he _needs_ her to understand exactly what kind of monster he is.

He fully expected her to try to escape at some point, why not just show her now what a useless endeavor that really is?

The sooner she accepts her position, the sooner she can adjust, Damon justifies to himself. (Or the sooner she’ll be pushed away from him, and he’ll have to accept his failure. But at least then, it’ll be over quickly.)

But maybe, _just maybe._ If Damon can show her the demon inside of him, and then prove to her he won’t hurt her in spite of it… Maybe she would understand how he feels about her.

Maybe she could grow to feel the same way.

Elena, slowed by her confusion, limps out the door and down the stairs. Damon listens to her footsteps and waits until she’s in the main entry room.

Only once she reaches the foyer does Damon move. He speeds down the stairs in a flash, appearing right in front of Elena – between her and the front door.

“I’ll catch you.” Damon says simply. Elena staggers back, still unused to his ability to move great distances within seconds.

“You can try to fight,” Damon says, harder this time. He stalks towards her, and instinctively, she backs away until her back hits the wall. Damon captures Elena’s hands in his and pins them to the wall above her. Elena twists in his grasp, even lets her full body weight hang from where he’s pinned her. Damon hold her weight easily, casually, showing her the full extent of his abilities.

“You won’t win,” Damon promises her. He steps closer to her, into her body, aligning every inch of him to her.

“But never, _ever_ doubt,” he says, letting himself be pulled towards the sound of her blood ringing in his ears, her scent pulling his bloodlust to the surface. Damon’s eyes go dark and vampiric.

“Don’t ever doubt that you are safe with me,” Damon finishes, surprising Elena.

Elena’s heart pounds in her chest, reacting to the sight of his true nature. Damon thinks she must expect him to bite her, with her so trapped against him.

“Elena,” he says softly. She looks at him with distrust.

“I’m in complete control,” Damon presses. “See?”

Damon lets go of his focus on Elena’s blood, the veins around his eyes fading into his human façade.

Without the fear of Damon losing control, Elena regains her composure. Without her fear, her anger returns.

“Let me go, Damon.”

Damon does, stepping away from her - even though every fiber of his body longs to stay close to her. But he rips himself off of her and turns away. He _can’t_ push her too far, not now. They’re at a crossroads, a turning point where everything could fall apart completely.

Or, if Damon can do this right, they can move forward from this. _Together_.

Damon agonizes in Elena’s silence, torn by her lack of response to him.

(Say something, say anything. _Tell me you’ll stay or just leave me forever. Just do it soon or I might die from the wait_.)

Unable to stand the quiet any longer, Damon turns again to face Elena.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Damon urges. Though, it comes out more desperate than demanding.

(If only she knew the power she really holds over him, he’d be doomed in an instant.)

“How can you go into the sun?” Elena questions instead of answers. The change in topic is so abrupt Damon almost does a double take.

Damon is relieved, though. Elena is still with him, for now. Not running, not fighting. Just trying to understand him, just as he craves to understand her.

But it is a dangerous question. Damon sees the meaning behind it. Elena is trying to find out Damon’s weaknesses, just as she was pressing him about earlier. He has no choice but to lie, though it tastes like acid on his tongue.

“Myth,” he says roughly. “Don’t bother trying to use that against me. I don’t sparkle, though.” Damon tries to use humor as an evasion.

(If he twists his daylight ring nervously, Elena doesn’t notice.)

“Wood?” Elena pushes, unwilling to believe vampires lack any weakness. There’s something almost cute how she persists.

“Don’t even think about staking me, Buffy,” Damon dismisses. “I’ll knock it out of your hand before you can even figure out where to aim it.”

“Well if I’m so safe from Stefan, how come you were able to take him down without having any actual weaknesses?” Elena snips, crossing her arms in front of her chest defiantly.

Damon cocks his head, smirking at her without giving her any more information than she’s already gleaned.

“You took him down somehow, Damon. And I’m going to find out how.”

“Well deduced Little Miss Sherlock,” Damon says, humoring her. “But how are you going to figure it out?”

Elena thrusts her chin forward, jaw muscles tensing with anger and frustration. (How adorable.) But she says nothing.

“Mm,” Damon hums, grinning like a cat that got the cream. “That’s what I thought. Well, have fun figuring it out while you’re trapped in here.”

Damon salutes her and turns away, walking towards the door to the cellar.

“Where are you going?” Elena calls, obviously not happy she doesn’t get to finish interrogating him.

“I’m going to have a chat with my dear little brother.”

Damon turns, and flashes her a deadly serious look.

“Don’t follow me unless you want another chunk taken out of your neck.”

With the threat of encountering Stefan again causing fear to flicker across her face, Damon is assured she’ll stay put.

With that warning of violence, Elena turns in the opposite direction, trying to put as much distance between her and Stefan as possible. She ends ups in the library again, her feet taking her there unconsciously. Elena supposes it’s the one place of comfort she still has in this house of horrors. The familiarity of all the books she’s already read bringing her a feeling of safety. The knowledge of the ones she hasn’t enticing her to just sit and read and consume.

Knowledge, Elena thinks. The one thing she needs most now. She needs to understand Damon better. She needs to figure out how he thinks so she can work out how to convince him to let her leave. Or, she thinks, she needs to figure out a plan of escape. Some type of distraction could work.

Or a weakness. But where would she find the knowledge to hurt Damon enough to escape?

There’s that thought again at the back of her head. An idea she can’t quite grasp that’s begging for her attention. But the more she tries to think of it the more it escapes her.

“Elena?” Damon calls from the other room.

“In the library,” she says automatically. (Which is stupid, because at the point she realizes he’ll be able to hear her from anywhere in the house even if she just breathes.)

“Stay there, find a good book. I’m going out for a little while. Be back in less than an hour, so don’t even think about leaving.”

Elena doesn’t respond, only waits for him to close the door.

When she hears the click, she lets herself fall into the armchair closest to her. Elena lets out a long sigh, maddeningly frustrated by her lack of options.

The arm chair is the same one she sat in her first day here, reading that silly book on plants that she laughed about with Damon over lunch.

Suddenly it comes rushing back to her. All those funny stories she’d thought were fantastical - those of vampires and werewolves (and gnomes, too, she supposed?) - were apparently true.

Elena searches around the chair, relieved to find the book back where she left it sitting on the shelf. Quickly, desperate to find what her brain kept urging her to, she flips through the pages until she comes to what she was looking for.

_Vervain._

A weakness that can be used to stop compulsion and hurt vampires, burn them like acid.

Elena nearly cheers with joy, clapping her hands together and smiling from ear to ear. Damon could be beaten, by a silly little plant, at that.

She could ingest it, prevent him from messing with her mind, stop him from taking even the tiniest of sips from her blood. She would poison him with it, weaken him. And in that weakened state she would be able to run.

Elena quickly stands and hobbles to the kitchen. Finding the spice rack, she combs through it, searching for her salvation in one simple herb.

She goes through every bottle, every label three times over. She finds red pepper flakes, oregano, turmeric, even her favorite - Italian seasoning.

No vervain.

It seems Elena’s victory is short-lived.

And of course it is, Elena thinks to herself. Why would a vampire keep his own poison as a _spice_.

***

Reality comes crashing down around her. Even if she got her hands on vervain, how would she even be able to convince, or trick Damon into consuming it?

Depression sinks into Elena’s bones deeply. She slumps under the weight of it. She shuffles back to the library, utterly defeated.

What is the point of fighting a vampire? Something much older and much smarter than her. He’s been able to see through her at every turn, been able to pluck her thoughts right from her head and respond to them as casually as he would as if she’d said them out loud.

There is no point, Elena realizes. Fighting, trying to escape – all fantasies. She was deluding herself into thinking she could find a way out of this.

Elena sinks back down into her chair, feeling as though she’ll never move again. Her eyes drift over the room. All this knowledge that brought her such comfort, and it’s all useless.

Elena’s gaze lingers on the book closest to her. The Little Prince, brought in by Damon after she heard the search party, after her discovery of his deceit.

Her hand reaches out towards the book, though moving feels like a monumental effort now. Elena flips through the pages without aim. The pain of longing for a time before her capture dulls. Numbness creeps into her body, leaving her feeling hollow.

A quote stops her flipping. It tells of the silly method the little prince used to fly from planet to planet.

 _I’d like to take advantage of a flock of wild birds to make my escape from this planet_ , Elena thinks.

She pictures herself surrounded by crows, lifting off of the ground and flying far away from this prison.

Elena’s mind flies away from her body. She drifts in the atmosphere, unwilling to come down.

***

Stefan groans next to Damon, the sheen of his sweat glinting in the sun.

“Hey, I will kill you if you throw up in my car,” Damon threatens.

“Where are you taking me?” Stefan breathes out. The vervain Damon injected him with makes his movements slow and drains the energy from him. Thank god Damon had suspected another vampire was stalking the woods around the boarding house and had stocked up on syringes full of vervain.

“You are going far away from Mystic Falls,” Damon says.

As Damon drives away from the boarding house, they pass the tree Damon felled.

It had its uses, and Damon is grateful it let him keep Elena. But now that the ruse is up, he doesn’t need to have an excuse to stop Elena from leaving anymore, so he finally split it in two.

Stefan coughs and props himself up sideways on the seat so he can look at Damon.

“So you get to have all the fun with fake-Katherine?” Stefan growls out.

Anger flares inside him. Damon stabs Stefan in the gut with a stake he’d brought with him, just in case. Stefan groans and clutches the stake, not having the strength to pull it out.

“Her name is Elena,” Damon grinds out. “And she’s no fun at all, I promise. Nothing like Katherine, you’d hate her.”

“But I bet she’d taste delicious,” Stefan muses. Damon, annoyed, reaches over and twists the stake, pushing it slightly deeper into Stefan’s abdomen.

“You’re not taking another bite out of her,” Damon says. “And unless you want me to hand you over to the council and let them kill you, you’ll stay away from Mystic Falls and Elena. I’m sure they’d love to find the vampire that’s been haunting their woods and killing their townsfolk.”

“But it was so fun,” Stefan complains. “Why can’t you just let me have my fun?”

“Your fun is causing me a world of problems since I’m staying in Mystic Falls for the foreseeable future, and I don’t want any interruptions from a nosy council looking for their vampire.”

“Fine, but you can’t keep me away from her forever,” Stefan promises.

Damon stops at a truck stop outside of Mystic Falls. He looks at Stefan, considering his threat.

(Would he kill his brother to keep Elena safe? He isn’t sure he could.)

“Goodbye brother,” Damon says, pulling the stake out before giving Stefan another shot of vervain. It’s enough to knock him out completely.

Damon searches the mostly empty lot and finds a truck driver filling her tank, a middle aged woman with a ball cap on. He saunters up to her, putting on his most charming smile.

“Hi there,” Damon says, smiling, eyes smoldering.

“Howdy,” the driver says back, offering a friendly smile and leaning back against her truck.

“I’m in need of a favor, and I’d love it if you could help me out.” Damon says, trying his most seductive look on.

“Oh, honey, you’re cute,” she says, smirking herself. “But I’m very gay.”

 _Huh_ , Damon thinks. Compulsion it is then. He dilates his pupils at her, immediately catching her attention.

“I respect that,” Damon says, leaning in. “But you’re still gonna do me that favor, because you’re an upstanding person who just loves helping others in need.”

The driver nods, smiling dreamily at him.

“You’re a sweet boy,” she says. “Of course I’ll help you out. What can I do for you?”

“Where are you heading?” Damon asks, smiling.

“I’m going up North to Maryland to drop off my cargo.”

Damon notes her truck is a grocery store brand. Sniffing deeply, he smells a _strong_ fish smell coming from inside. (That’s really just a cherry on top, Damon thinks.)

“You’re going to take my brother in the back of your truck,” Damon commands. “The vervain will wear off in just about a day, so make sure you drop him off by tonight. Find some woods and dump him, then make sure you’re far away by the time he wakes up.”

The driver nods and smiles at him, going to open the back of her truck. Damon gets Stefan’s limp body from his car, drags it over to the truck, and chucks it into the fishy stench.

“Have a lovely ride, brother.” Damon calls as the driver pulls out of the truck stop, waving at him through her rearview mirror.

He climbs back into his car and pulls out a glass vial from his glove compartment.

The thick, red liquid gleams in the sun. Elena’s blood, taken from her shoulder when Damon was dressing the wound.

On to the next errand, Damon thinks and pulls his car on the road back to Mystic Falls. This girl is an endless list of chores for Damon.

(It’s worth it, though. Just to keep her in his life.)

Damon meets April at the same coffee shop and hands her the duffle bag he had prepared. It contains the vial of blood, Elena’s cell phone, and the clothes she was wearing the night of the party. Not to mention a big wad of cash to get her through the trip.

April takes the bag, and hands him a vanilla chai latte. Damon raises an eyebrow, and she shrugs.

“You seemed to like it last time. I told you they were good,” April says.

Damon smiles and takes it, not one to deny himself the pleasures of life.

“Once you get to New York, don’t forget to start posting a few pictures,” Damon tells her. The state is far enough away that no one will be able to catch up with her by the time they see her posts. April nods.

“Call me if there’s any trouble,” Damon reminds her. April rolls her eyes at him.

“Thanks, _Dad_ ,” she teases. “I’ll see you soon enough. You still have _two_ favors to repay,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, yeah. You call, I’m there,” Damon says.

April gives him a peace sign and makes her way out to the road. She’ll hitchhike her way up, and Damon is sure that no one will give that witch trouble. If they do, she knows how to take care of herself. Damon even included a little pepper spray in her bag as a joke.

Laundry list taken care of, Damon cheerfully heads back home. Elena is waiting for him, after all.

***

He finds her in her chair in the library. It’s cute, he thinks, that she has her own chair. (Disgustingly domestic. Stefan would mock him endlessly if he knew his brother was enjoying something so _human_.)

“Honey, I’m home,” he says, smirking. Might as well commit to the charade. Damon enters the library, ready for Elena’s snippy comeback.

But Elena doesn’t respond. Strange. She just sits in her chair without a book, staring out the window.

“Elena?” Damon questions. If not for her even breathing and steady heartbeat, he could’ve mistaken her for a statue. She still doesn’t respond to him.

“Ground control to Major Tom? Enjoying spacing out?” Damon teases.

Elena doesn’t move.

It frustrates Damon.

It _really_ frustrates him. Elena is teasing and jokes and constant retorts. This is not Elena.

Pushing her boundaries, Damon leans forward and picks up her hand. He _needs_ her to react to him. She can’t just be nothing.

Damon presses his lips to the inside of her wrist at her pressure point, waiting for the telltale pickup of her heartrate indicating her baser interest in him.

Still no response.

Damon can’t stand it. His frustration bleeds through into his features, revealing his vampiric eyes and elongating his fangs. Without breaking the skin, Damon presses his teeth to the skin at her wrist. He’d even take Elena’s fear over this absolute emptiness.

Elena’s heart finally, _finally_ skips a beat. She turns her head to Damon and stares at him.

Damon and Elena have locked eyes many times before, in passion, in anger, in annoyance. But there’s nothing to this stare. Her deep brown eyes are just empty.

Elena’s eyes hold him there, staring into what feels like his _soul_. Damon can’t move under the weight of them. He drops her hand, and it falls with a thunk back onto the chair. His vampiric features melt away and he’s _caught_ under her gaze.

Finally, she looks away, and he can move again, can breathe again.

Damon is so struck by her apathetic expression that he feels numb himself. Her power over him only seems to grow every day.

(Thank god she doesn’t realize it, or she’d be able to decide his every move.)

Damon clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“I’m… I’ll be in the kitchen,” he says softly. “I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

Damon doesn’t expect a response, and couldn’t handle another one of those stares, so he turns and leaves the room. Without thinking, he grabs one of the thicker textbooks on the shelves on his way out.

In the kitchen, he lets the text fall onto the countertop. Flips to the index, finds the word he’s looking for, and turns to the page with its entry.

_Depression, otherwise known as major depressive disorder or clinical depression, is a common and serious mood disorder. Those who suffer from depression experience persistent feelings of sadness and hopelessness and lose interest in activities they once enjoyed._

Damon considers this, and compares it to Elena’s affect. Loss in interest of activities they once enjoyed? Well, she had been content simply reading a few days ago. Now it seemed as though she had spent all day in the library without touching a book.

Damon buries his face in his hands, wants to laugh at the ridiculous situation he’s in. He never thought he’d have to look up the symptoms for depression, but here he is combing through his copy of the DSM-V.

The text does mention that diagnosis requires symptoms persisting for at least two weeks. Damon shakes his head and closes the book, deciding to wait it out and see if Elena’s mood changes.

Damon goes through the motions of preparing dinner, just some simple lasagna, but it gives him time to consider Elena’s emotions, try to understand her perspective.

In the short time of her being aware that her stay at the Boarding House is against her will, she’d been perfectly normal. Angry, upset, and terrified all at the appropriate times. And every time, Elena had pushed through, retaining her spirit.

Damon expects her to fight back against him, even wants her to. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be Elena. But Damon also wants her to get through this, and come out the other side happy. With Damon. Willingly staying with him despite all his flaws.

But Elena without her fight, without her spark? That leaves Damon with an empty shell and no one to love. In her own way, by receding into herself, Elena has left Damon just as completely alone as Katherine had.

Damon clenches his fists on top of the counter and squeezes his eyes shut.

No, Elena _will_ come back to him. He’ll _make_ her come back to him.

The ding of the oven signaling the lasagna is finished cooking brings Damon back to the present. He doesn’t even bother calling Elena into the kitchen. Damon busies himself putting Elena’s plate of lasagna on a tray with silverware, a napkin, and a glass of water.

(How utterly domestic.)

(Though, Damon finds he enjoys it more every time, since it’s with Elena.)

Damon sets the tray down on the table next to Elena, who is still just staring out the window. Though, Damon can’t imagine she sees anything in the darkness with her human eyes. Just the empty void of night.

“Soup’s on,” Damon says, kneeling down next to Elena so he can match her eye level. “Elena, you need to eat.”

Damon expects Elena to not react. What he doesn’t expect is her to stand slowly, and walk away from him.

He watches her go. There’s that knife in his chest.

 _Guilt_.

Elena stares at her reflection in the downstairs bathroom mirror. She vaguely recalls doing this before, thinking herself slightly changed then.

Now, she doesn’t even recognize herself. Blank face, gaunt features, empty eyes. Nothing like the girl she was a week ago.

Cheerleader, girlfriend, daughter. About to go to college and begin her neat little planned out life.

Before she knew who – what Damon was, she had hated that life. Elena had fantasized about a life of adventure and unpredictability. Ideas Damon had planted in her head.

Now, she thinks she’d give just about anything to get back to that mundane life. Give anything to not be a prisoner. Give anything to not know that monsters do exist.

Now, she’s just a walking corpse. Elena can see her entire future stretched out before her. Either she withers away slowly, losing every aspect of herself until there’s nothing left and she’s only a puppet – filled and used by Damon. That, or Damon eventually tires of her and throws her out like last week’s garbage.

No adventure.

No future.

No freedom.

No life.

Elena hears the shattering of glass before she realizes the mirror is broken. Then it takes her a moment to realize that _she_ was the one to break it. Her fist stings where the glass sliced through the skin on her knuckles. The blood drips down her wrist and onto one particularly large piece of the mirror that reflects back up at her.

Elena picks up the shard and holds it up, thoughtful. The stinging of her cuts only intensifies with movement of her hand.

The sting feels _…_

Not good. It hurts.

But it does _feel._ The numbness throughout Elena’s body ends at her wrist where the pain shoots up through to her arm. It grounds her.

Elena runs her thumb along the edge of the shard, considering its sharp edge. Wonders how it would feel against her wrist…

Damon is there, though, walking into the bathroom and interrupting her thoughts. He looks at the mirror shard in her hand and raises his eyebrows casually.

“Mirror shards aren’t particularly lethal to vampires you know,” Damon jokes.

“It wasn’t for you” Elena states simply.

Damon’s expression turns to shock, then anger, then the mirror shard is knocked out her hands before she can blink.

It’s absence almost feels like a loss. But instead, Damon’s hands are there, cradling her wounded one.

They share a long moment. He stares at her, fury in his eyes. She looks through him impassively.

What’s he going to do, she thinks. Hurt her?

Damon brings her hand up to his lips as veins appear around his eyes. Elena doesn’t try to stop him. What does it matter? He’ll get what he wants from her either way.

Tenderly, almost reverently, Damon kisses the gash across her knuckles, licking the blood from his lips when he pulls it away. This does not surprise Elena.

What does surprise her is when he brings his own wrist up to his own mouth and bites it. Damon presses it into her mouth, holding the back of her head still before she can yank it away.

“Drink,” he says firmly.

Not having the will to fight him, Elena just lets his blood trickle down her throat. Absentmindedly, she notes the sweet flavor, which strikes her as odd. Blood should taste like iron and salt.

Seemingly satisfied after she swallows, Damon lowers his wrist from her mouth.

“Will I become a vampire now?” Elena says quietly. She exhales and contemplates this. Maybe if she were a vampire, she could run fast, like Damon. Run far, _far_ from this prison.

“No, that’s not how it happens,” Damon replies tersely, eyebrows furrowed.

Damon presents her own hand to her, which she didn’t even realize had ceased to be painful. The only evidence there was ever a wound are the smears of blood across it. Elena also realizes her ankle doesn’t hurt anymore. _Huh_ , _neat_ , Elena thinks. Not that she could run away, even with two functional legs.

“What were you thinking of doing Elena?” Damon asks, caution in his tone.

“What would happen if I killed myself?” Elena asks instead of answering, with an almost apathetic curiosity.

Damon inhales sharply. His eyes seem to flash with panic, but it’s gone in an instant, leaving Elena wondering if she even saw it in the first place.

“I would heal you before your heart stopped, like I did just now.” Damon’s tone leaves no room for argument, but Elena presses him further.

“And if you couldn’t get to me in time?”

Damon stalks even closer to her, crowding her against the wall so close she has to crane her neck to keep eye contact with him.

“You kill yourself, and I will personally kill every living human in Mystic Falls. Starting with your family.”

A precipice opens before Elena. She had been standing on the edge of a cliff, but only now does she look down to see how far she can fall.

She’s shaken by Damon’s statement. Until now, Elena has only thought of her own situation, only of her own freedom.

The grim truth that she had forgotten was that outside these boarding house walls lay a world that still contained people she loved. Elena could accept all the terrible things that had happened to her, and that will likely continue to happen to her. She didn’t care. It was just _her_ life.

But it isn’t just her life, Elena realizes now. It’s her parents, her brother, her friends, and anyone else she had ever met in her small town. People with hopes and dreams, people who could have all the adventures she has given up.

Elena could accept her life was over.

Elena couldn’t accept that her selfish actions to try to escape her prison (even through death) would cause the deaths of so many. It’s enough to cause her unfeeling heart to beat violently in her chest again. Her eyes well with tears she had thought long dried out.

“They have nothing to do with this. Leave them alone.” Elena tries to sound angry, but her throat cracks and her voice wobbles instead, belying her fear.

Damon’s hands cradle her face, a normally comforting gesture - twisted into one of cruel possessiveness. His eyes say one word. _Mine_.

“Oh, Elena,” he breathes out, eyes boring deeply into hers. “They have everything to do with this. If they’re all that’s standing between you and suicide, then I will gladly use them as my bargaining chips.”

Elena shakes her head and closes her eyes, tears slipping out from under her lids without her permission. Damon’s thumbs stroke them away from her cheeks.

“I’m nothing. Just let me go, let me die. You don’t need me.” Elena brings her hands up to grip his wrists, pleading with him to listen to her.

“Elena,” Damon says, too sweetly. He steps closer to her, dragging her into his chest and resting his head on hers. “You’re everything. You’re all the good in this world, everything that I’m not. Of course I need you.”

Elena’s breaths start to come too quickly. Panic settles in her chest, leaving her feeling like she needs to jump out of her own skin.

“Fate keeps pushing you towards me, over and over,” Damon continues. “First when your broken ankle landed you in my backyard with no one else to help you. Then when the search party couldn’t find you. Don’t you see? You’re _meant_ to be mine.”

A sob breaks free from her chest. Elena puts her hands on his chest, trying to create some space between them. But it only creates more of a feeling of intimacy. An onlooker would only see two lovers embracing.

“You’re caring and kind and you puts others’ needs above your own.” The words pour out of Damon like he can’t stop them. Elena wants to cover her ears and block him out, can’t stand listening to Damon’s truths.

(Funny how she had longed to understand him before. Now she does, and she wants to take it all back.)

“You have an _annoyingly_ strong moral code.” Damon lets out a hollow laugh. “And you see and bring out the best in people. Hell, you even saw good in me.”

Damon releases her face only to encircle her within his arms.

“You saw it before,” Damon says softly. “You will see it again. I _need_ you to see it again.”

Damon lays his head on top of hers.

(Stop, stop. This is too much like a love confession and it can’t be that. Damon _can’t_ love her. He’ll never let her go if he does.)

“I’m just me, I’m just one person. I can’t be worth that much!” she protests.

Elena feels Damon’s head turn, his lips press against the top of her head.

“I would kill thousands to keep you.”

Her heart feels like it’s breaking then, as she finally realizes how truly fucked she is. She had once thought she was another victim in a long series, just another face and body for Damon to use, abuse, and toss away when he tired of her. That thought had brought her comfort, had given her hope that one day she would be able to get away.

Now Elena realizes it was all in vain. She’s not just another victim. Damon is obsessed with her, loves her for some reason and for that he will never let her go.

And never is a long time for someone who is immortal.

Elena cries, and Damon holds her.

***

The pain of her wounded hand, though healed, lingers within her. That, in addition to the release of her tears, brings a sense of clarity to Elena. Damon still holds her, but she feels isolated, and peaceful even. She’s finally able to think, the cloud in her mind dissipating.

That’s when Elena realizes the picture of the puzzle, the final piece clicking into place.

Elena is a good person. Everything else good in Damon’s life had abandoned him - his beloved brother Stefan and the previous love of his life, Katherine. He can’t let the only good thing – Elena – slip away from him when it’s within his means to keep her.

Damon also believes himself to be evil – a soulless monster. Elena understands now that Damon thinks that the good in Elena is fate’s way of balancing the evil in Damon.

So Elena realizes that the only way Damon will let her go is if she can prove to him that he is a good person, too. That he doesn’t need Elena to balance him.

Hard to do for a blood sucking monster who has no qualms with killing people to get what he wants.

But Elena realizes she still sees a piece of good in Damon. The way he refuses to hurt her in any way he can avoid. He’s shown her that time and time again. Damon can be a good person when it comes to Elena.

On the other hand, that also means that Damon won’t ever let her go. She’s tried to show him that he’s hurting her by keeping her, and he doesn’t seem to mind putting his selfish need above her freedom. Elena can’t take that route out to her escape.

Something tugs at her brain though, some other piece of light within Damon’s darkness.

Then it hits her. Damon refused to kill his brother, even when Stefan had threatened Elena’s life (which obviously means more to Damon than anything else in the world).

But when it comes to Stefan, Damon also seems to care about him, too. Damon, though he tried to hide it, still longs for the relationship he used to have with his little brother. Though he says he doesn’t, Elena can see that Damon still has hope that Stefan’s humanity will return, and they can be brothers again.

Elena just has to get Damon his brother back, and then Damon might let Elena go.

This realization, though what seems like took her hours to think through fully, only takes her a short minute.

Damon still holds her. The way his arms tighten around her when she sniffles proves his concern about her previous suicidal behavior.

While Elena still feels the edges of the numbness around her thoughts, she no longer feels sucked into it. She can see a clear path forward that could eventually lead to her freedom. But she still has no idea what that path involves.

How can she get Stefan’s humanity back and reunite the two brothers when Damon won’t even tell her what he did with Stefan, much less where he is. Elena would have no way of getting to him or contacting him.

So, she’ll wait until Damon slips up, or until she can come up with an amazing idea that will bring both Damon’s happiness and Elena’s freedom. With the promise of a future someday, she decides she can tolerate just a little more time waiting.

Elena’s clothes are the perfect balance of casual and comfortable, and they’re just sexy enough to draw the eye of whoever she chooses. Elena’s hair is shiny and smooth, and almost always cooperates no matter what weather. Elena has just enough height to be intimidating when she needs to be, but timid and sweet when she wants, as well.

April loves it. The idea of spending the next few months “on the run” as Elena, travelling to all her favorite spots along the Eastern seaboard on an all-expense-paid trip just sends her into a fit of excitement every time she thinks about it.

If the waiter sends her weird looks every time April does a happy dance in her seat, April neither notices nor cares.

The first picture April took as Elena in New York, with a fantastic view of the city from the Empire State Building, got _tons_ of attention. Elena’s phone had practically been vibrating nonstop with all the calls and emails of “where are you”, “are you okay”, and “why the hell did you leave Mystic Falls without telling anyone”.

Speaking of which, the screen lights up again with the picture of a pretty older woman and the contact displaying ‘Mom’.

Fed up with the endless notifications, April decides it’s time to answer the call.

“Elena, thank god you picked up finally.” Elena’s mother sounds absolutely wrecked. Poor thing, April thinks. “Are you alright?!”

“Yeah mom,” April says, putting on her best Elena impression. “I just needed to get away for a while. I’m okay, just give me my space.”

“Elena, honey, what happened? Why don’t you just come home and we can talk -”

April hangs up before she can get the entire mom spiel. She’s bored, and she’s finished her pizza at this point.

April types a few words into the search bar on her laptop’s web browser. Images of mountains with a glistening ocean behind them pop up. Acadia waits for her, she thinks. Let’s get going.

After Elena’s outburst, she seemed normal. _Weirdly_ normal, Damon thinks. Something had obviously changed after Damon poured his heart out to her. But he can’t for the life (sorry, death) of him, figure out what it was.

Once Damon was certain she wouldn’t try her little suicide stunt again, Damon had released her from his hold. He had watched as she calmly returned to the library, sans limp, and picked up the journal he had given her.

Elena had just started writing again. It was too normal, too easy.

Damon fucks everything up, how could this have gone well?

Damon stares at Elena for a long time, but she just keeps writing. After around ten minutes of this, Elena seems to tire of his staring, puts down her pen, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything other to do than just watch me?” she complains.

“Sorry if I’m a little concerned after that performance of yours,” Damon frowns. How is she acting so normal? “You’re…okay now, though?”

“I’m okay now,” Elena says simply. She no longer gives him an empty stare. The light in her eyes has returned, along with something else, Damon thinks. Determination?

So Damon believes her. She seems to have moved forward, as he hoped she would. Damon can move forward, too.

“I’m going out,” Damon tells Elena. At her curious look, he clarifies. “I’ve got some history homework I need to do.”

Catching his drift, Elena nods and goes back to her writing. It’s almost silly, her dismissing him so easily.

“Don’t try anything while I’m gone,” Damon demands. Elena just nods and continues writing.

“I’ve hidden all the sharp objects,” he pushes, trying to get a rise out of her. “Remember, I’ll kill everyone you love if you do anything to hurt yourself.”

At that, Elena fixes him with a vitriolic look. Satisfied, Damon throws his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

The history professor at Whitmore College specializes in tracing bloodlines back from early settlers in Virginia to ancestral lines across Europe. It doesn’t hurt, Damon thinks, that she’s pretty cute on top. It hardly takes Damon any compulsion at all for her to answer all of Damon’s questions without asking any of her own.

“Unfortunately,” Dr. Hot-stuff says, leaning forward so that Damon can’t not notice her cleavage. “I don’t have anything on the family name Pierce. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

The woman bats her eyelashes suggestively. In another life, Damon would’ve had her pinned to the desk by now.

But he’s not here for that, he’s here for Elena. And he’s quickly finding compared to Elena, this woman holds little interest to him. Here she is, throwing herself at Damon, while he’d rather continue to pine over the one girl he can’t have.

“Sure,” Damon says, smiling. “Let’s try a different route. Why don’t you give the Gilberts a call?”

The professor quickly dials the number Damon gives her. She only has to wait one ring for the phone to pick up.

“Gilbert residence,” a male voice says on the other end.

“Hi, this is Dr. Emma Wyatt calling from Whitmore College. I’m a history researcher and I’m studying the ancestral bloodlines of Mystic Falls and how they connect to family lines in Europe. I was wondering if you had a moment to give me some background history on your family line?”

“Sure, I’m Grayson Gilbert and the Gilbert family is one of the original founding families. Though, I’m not sure if I can help you with where my family came from in Europe.”

“That’s fine,” Dr. Wyatt says smoothly. “That’s the fun part of my research, tracing those ancestral lines. Do you have any other family names you are related to that I could look into?”

“My wife’s from the Sommers family, but we’re unsure of any ancestral history,” Grayson replies.

“How about extended family?” Dr. Wyatt pushes him further for information.

“Hm,” Grayson hums, thinking. “I have a niece whose mother’s maiden name was Flemming.”

Jackpot, Damon thinks. He’s talking about Elena – his niece by blood.

Dr. Wyatt quickly thanks Grayson and promises to get back to him if she finds any interesting stories about his ancestry.

“How long will it take you to dig up a connection between the Flemming bloodline and Katherine Pierce?” Damon asks.

“It could take her months of research,” she says, shrugging.

Damon groans, but thanks her for her efforts, telling her to call him when she finds anything.

Elena sits in the living room, bored. No idea what she should do now.

Attempting to escape seems pointless, especially with the threat of the deaths of everyone she loves hanging over her head. Besides, even if she ran, Damon would be home soon enough and would be looking for her. Elena isn’t quite sure how effective vampires’ senses are, but she doesn’t think she could run far enough or hide well enough to elude him.

Elena’s eye catches the crystalline decanter sitting on the table, so pristine. She remembers him drinking the other night, obviously using it as a coping mechanism.

Thinking back now, Elena realizes Damon must have been as panicked as she had that night.

She walks over to the decanter and picks it up. The crystal is so elegant, and Damon obviously enjoys the alcohol. From what Elena knows about whiskeys, it must be expensive.

Elena wants to smash every bottle he owns. Screw him for sinking his sorrows into drunkenness. Screw him for getting to run away from his problems, when Elena has to live with hers.

But then she has a different idea. Elena pours herself a glass of the stuff and sniffs it. The amber liquid has such a high alcohol content that it stings her eyes.

Elena lets the smallest drip of whiskey glide over her tongue. It has a…smokey flavor, Elena guesses. But mostly it just burns.

She takes a larger sip, and it burns like hell going down her throat.

After a moment, though, her head becomes lighter. The spot where the liquid washed over her lip becomes tingly and goes numb. Elena finds she quite enjoys the feeling.

Elena thinks for a moment about what Damon had told her before he left. He specifically told her no self-destructive behavior. But, she figures, if he can use it as a coping mechanism, why can’t she? Technically, it doesn’t hurt her as long as she doesn’t have too much…

Decided, Elena takes a longer sip. The burn hurts less and she feels more… present. More alive. She bounces on the balls of her feet, enjoying the feeling of being on both her feet again. Wants to run. Not to get away, just to burn some of this energy.

The stereo on the other side of the room calls to her, so she skips over to it. Still only tipsy, she finds she feels very agile, very nimble, not drunk enough to be unstable.

Elena finds shelves full of CDs and scans through them. One album is familiar to her, so she pops the disc out of its case and into the stereo. She turns the dial higher, letting the beginning beats of the song pound through her.

The lyrics fill her ears and practically knock her off her feet.

 _I tremble,_ the words echo _._ _They’re gonna eat me alive_.

Stefan is at Elena’s neck, drinking her blood.

He’s not really there, Elena knows, but the pain and fear resurfaces with the song.

_If I stumble, they’re gonna eat me alive._

Elena is back in the woods, running and lost. She trips off the cliff, and the pain returns to her ankle.

Damon is walking towards her with a smile.

(If only she knew what he was, she would’ve ran the other way – sprained ankle or no.)

_Can you hear my heart beating like a hammer._

Elena’s heart pounds with adrenaline after the memories resurface. Instead of more tears, though, they bring a pent up frustration. She’s been so cooped up for so long, nothing to do, and no kind of release.

The building drum beat pulses inside her, making her bounce in time.

_Help I’m alive my heart is beating like a hammer._

Elena runs her hands through her hair and sways to the beat. Dancing feels _good_. It feels like freedom, and she sways to the song.

The alcohol runs through her body, and she takes another sip every time she passes her glass as she dances her way around the room.

Because she _is_ alive, and her heart _does_ beat. She can feel her heartbeat in her ears. She’s alive and she’ll continue to live as much as she can.

Elena will keep trying to get back her freedom, her life, no matter what.

She dances.

Damon arrives home to the sound of a heavy bass spilling through the living room. Confused, and a little excited, he speeds into the entry way. He’s happy he did. The show he stumbles upon is too good to miss.

Elena’s arms are thrown in the air, her hair spilling down her back messily. (It looks just as it did after they’d had sex, Damon thinks approvingly.) Her shirt rides up with her arms in the air, and Damon sees her cute little back dimples peeking out from underneath.

Her _ass_ sways back and forth and Damon is instantly aroused.

Damon, unwilling to waste a second of whatever mood has possessed Elena to throw herself a sexy little dance party, speeds to Elena. He aligns her back to his chest, grabbing onto her swaying hips.

“Having fun?” he breathes into her ear. Damon inhales at her neck deeply, and he can smell her excitement mixed with some of his whiskey. He can taste her as her scent rolls over his tongue, wants to press a kiss to her skin.

Elena whips her head around, but he holds her hips firmly, keeping her pressed against him and forcing her to keep moving, swaying with him.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says. He wants to groan with how good she feels against him. It’s been too long since he’s felt her so close to him.

“I’m angry with you,” she throws back at him.

“I’m glad,” Damon responds. “I was worried I’d be living with a hollow body the rest of your life.”

“I’m serious,” Elena says. “You lied to me, tricked me. You’re keeping me prisoner, and you’re a damn vampire.”

Damon hums, enjoying how her anger makes her heartrate spike.

“Anger and lust often go hand in hand,” Damon replies, his hands squeezing her hips.

Damon lets his fingertips slip under her top, tracing her waist. He smirks when he hears Elena’s heart pound in response. Her breath catches for a moment, and her hands come up to grasp his hands. They don’t push his hands away, though. Yet. Damon can tell she’s conflicted, caught between her anger and her desire for him.

Damon decides as long as she’s not actively stopping him, he’ll see how far he can push her. His fingers brush up to her ribs, just underneath her bra.

“I know you want this, Elena. You still want me just as bad as I want you. Don’t lie to me,” Damon purrs in her ear. “I promises I can make you feel good again.”

Damon hears Elena’s lips part as she tries to speak, maybe tries to tell him to stop. But no sounds come out. Damon takes this as a good sign, and continues trailing his hands up and down her sides.

“Tell me to stop,” he dares her. “Just say it, and I will.”

Damon presses his lips to where her jaw meets her neck. Elena’s next inhale is sharp. Her scent is infused with arousal, her skin tastes like salt. Damon wonders how sweet her blood would be.

“I know I make you feel good,” he murmurs against her skin.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Elena blurts out suddenly. It’s not what Damon expected, and he’s intrigued.

“What kind of deal?” he says. His voice is wrecked, rough with lust.

“I’ll have sex with you if you let me go,” she says. Her voice is high, strained with her desire. But her words twist in his gut.

Damon is tempted, so very tempted. He wants her badly. Wants to take her here, on the wall, in his bed, in the shower. He wants to have her in every possible way, and wants to feel so close to her he doesn’t know where his body ends and hers begins.

He releases her hips, and she turns around to face him, waiting for his answer. It is a win-win scenario, Damon thinks.

He stalks towards her. For every steps he takes forward, she takes one back, until he’s pinned her between him and a wall. Damon puts one arm up beside her head, caging her in.

Damon takes her chin in his other hand. Let’s his thumb stroke her bottom lip. (So soft. He wants to bite it.)

Elena looks up at him, chest breathing hard against his. Her big brown eyes are blown wide with lust. She still waits for his answer.

Slowly, so slowly, Damon bends his head down to hers. Elena, almost unconsciously, tilts her head up to his. But instead of pressing his lips to hers, he continues bending down until he reaches her neck.

Her blood rushes through the veins on her neck, calling to him.

Damon’s desire mixes with his hunger and he’s speaking before he’s even made the decision to.

“Let me drink from you,” he says, coming out more desperate and needy than he intended. “I promise I can make it good for you.”

Elena stops breathing, and Damon isn’t quite sure if her heart pounds from arousal or fear.

Losing a bit of composure and control, Damon gently bites her neck without breaking the skin.

She gasps then, definitely out of fear this time.

“Stop,” Elena says.

Damon does.

He pulls his head back up to look at her face, read her expression. She’s still flushed, but she looks at him with a firm set expression.

“So that’s the bargain? I let you fuck me and feed on me and you let me go?”

Damon narrows his eyes, considering her offer. He doesn’t even think she’s convinced herself it’s a good deal yet. He sees the conflict behind her eyes.

She’s still afraid of his more monstrous nature.

And Damon? Would he accept that deal?

Feeling Elena pressed against him like this, her hitched breathes and warm body so close to him, Damon almost thinks of taking it.

But he can’t. Damon is in it for the long game. As much as he wants her body – her fantastic body – he wants her heart, too. Wants her to commit fully to him.

So Damon smiles, and backs off of her.

“No deal,” he says, and she looks at him, shocked he turned her down.

Then she gives him a suspicious glare. She knows he backed off too easily, suspects he’s planning something.

Which, of course, he is.

Elena has a hard time getting to sleep, after. She’s glad, she supposes, that Damon doesn’t insist on sleeping in the same bed, but rather sleeps in one of the other rooms.

(Part of her thinks if he was lying right next to her, she’d have a much harder time saying no to him.)

Her mind is racing from earlier. Elena thought she’d offered Damon the one thing he couldn’t turn down. But it seemed his loneliness outranks his libido, preferring to keep Elena even if she refuses to fuck him.

How disappointing. Elena thinks she could’ve convinced herself to let Damon fuck and feed off of her in return for her freedom.

(She’s glad that she didn’t have to, though. The idea of him drinking her blood is just too much for her to handle. How the hell could it ever feel _good_?)

Exhausted from her encounter with Damon, and the whiskey still inside her making her sleepy, Elena finally is able to drift into dreams.

She’s aware she’s dreaming, too, because Damon definitely wasn’t in bed with her when she fell asleep.

Yet there he lies, propped up on his side and looking at her with hungry eyes.

Elena looks at him confused, then looks down at herself when she realizes she’s cold.

The reason being that she’s wearing a sheer lingerie dress, leaving practically nothing to the imagination.

“Damon, what-?”

“Shh,” Damon says. He pulls himself on top of her, bracketing her heading in between his arms.

“Let me make you feel good,” he tells her. The words caress her with a familiar feeling. Elena _wants_ to let him.

(The same way she wanted to listen to Stefan, says a voice in the back of her head.)

Elena’s eyes close, and her body relaxes. She knows it’s a dream, yet everything feels so real.

It feels real when Damon kisses her, long and slow.

It feels real as he grinds himself into her, sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

It feels so real Elena forgets she doesn’t want this, and wraps her arms around Damon.

(This isn’t right.)

Damon pushes himself inside her, and she moans from the stretch. His deep, slow thrusts pulling the pleasure from her. (Unwillingly.)

He kisses her neck, sucks on it. It’s sure to leave a bruise. (Will it, if this is only a dream?)

Damon’s kiss turns sharp at her neck, and with a sharp pinch, Elena realizes he’s _biting_ her, _drinking_ from her.

Elena expects the fear to come, the pain. But it doesn’t.

It feels _good_. She moans from the pleasure of it, combined with how Damon feels moving inside her. It takes only seconds of him feeding from her and she’s so close already. She just needs –

She needs –

Elena’s snap open.

She’s still alone in the bed, but she pants heavily. The dream doesn’t fade when she wakes. Elena remembers every pleasurable moment in it, realizes that she’s still on the edge of her orgasm.

After a few gasping breathes, Elena hears a chuckle from beside her.

Damon stands in the doorway, eyes half lidded and seemingly as turned on as she is. And Elena’s furious.

“Damon, you -! Did you do that, did you make me dream of-“

“Of..?” he responds. “What did you dream about Elena?”

He’s acting way too smug to not know.

Damon has to have been the source of her dream. The reason she felt those things. Elena wouldn’t have had a sex dream about a psychopath and a monster, she just wouldn’t have.

“Great, so not only do I have to put up with you all day. You get to invade my dreams too.” Elena says, tired, horny, and frustrated. “Can all vampires do that?”

Damon shrugs.

“Only this vampire can make you _feel_ like that,” he says.

Elena turns from him, angry.

“Come on, Elena,” Damon says in his low, rough voice that puts a heat in her belly. Elena feels the bed dip where he leans over to her on it. “We’ve already done it, why not just give in? Let me make you feel good.”

Elena pushes herself to focus. (Don’t get seduced by the psychopath, Bonnie would’ve told her.)

(Why not? Caroline would’ve chimed in. He’s hot.)

No, Elena can’t lose sight of where she is, and who she’s with.

“I never would’ve slept with you if I knew what you really were, or what you were doing to me.”

“I think you’re lying,” Damon sing-songs to her.

Before Elena can respond, a phone rings out from Damon’s pocket.

Damon doesn’t move an inch away from her, just answers the call while still leaning over her enticingly. Because of this, Elena can hear the woman on the other line clearly.

“Damon, thank god you picked up,” the woman says, sounding panicked. “Something’s wrong with the coven. Angela is – she’s dead. I don’t know what’s going on and I _need_ your help.”

Damon frowns, expression turning serious in an instant.

“I’ll be right there,” Damon says immediately, then hangs up the phone.

“What was that?” Elena asks, genuinely curious.

Damon sighs, and finally leans away from her. He runs a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes.

“I’ve got a favor to return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depression sucks, so please take care of yourselves. And don’t rely on alcohol to make you feel better, especially not if it’s expensive whiskey.  
> The thought Elena has about The Little Prince is actually a lyric from a song about the same book: El Principito by AJJ. The song she dances to is Help I’m Alive by Metric, which has been stuck in my head for the past week since I started re-watching season 1.  
> The next chapter is where the action really kicks in. I've got way less of it already planned out, so it may take a bit longer for me to get it up. Until then, comments kick my butt into gear and get me to post sooner! :)


	4. Journey and Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, over 600 hits! Sorry, meant to get this out earlier, but I really struggled with this chapter. I even broke it into two chapters since it was getting so long! Hope you enjoy anyways!

Elena is grateful for the interruption the phone call brings. Things were heating up quickly between her and Damon, and she was having trouble finding reasons not to use sex as a means of distraction. For Damon, of course, so that he’d let his guard down enough for her to escape.

(Not for herself.)

She is less grateful for getting dragged out of bed in her pj’s, forced to pack what few things of hers Damon had brought in that duffle bag, and pushed into the car while it’s still dark before the sunrise.

Though, it’s almost worth the grumpiness when she sees the boarding house getting smaller in the sideview mirror.

 _Freedom_.

Elena wants to thank whoever was on the other end of that call. This favor that Damon had to return was finally giving her a shot at escape, however slim.

She longs to see her town again, and any of the people in it. Unfortunately, the route Damon takes them through passes the edge of town without even approaching the more populated areas. The sign wishing them well as they leave Mystic Falls pulls at Elena’s heart. Every mile Damon accelerates through on the highway makes her more and more homesick.

But Elena _will_ see her home again. She’s more determined the further away they get from Mystic Falls that she won’t let this opportunity pass her by. Wherever Damon is taking her, she has the feeling she’ll find someone who can help her – psychotic vampire looming over her shoulder or no.

Damon doesn’t say anything past ‘get some rest’, and Elena highly doubts her chances of survival were she to fling herself from the Camaro. So Elena lets herself drift to sleep just as the first rays of sun kiss the sky.

She’s not asleep for long until she’s woken by the slowing of the car. Sitting up (and wiping the small bit of drool from her cheek before Damon can notice), Elena realizes Damon is pulling into a gas station.

Though it’s just a small shop filled with junk foods next to a couple gas pumps, Elena can’t help but perk up. Somewhere in that shop there is a human being (probably) who has a phone and access to the outside world. If she could just get a message to her parents…

Damon turns to her before he gets out of the car to pump gas.

“You even think about running, or get any ideas of chatting up anyone, I’ll kill everyone in a 100 mile radius – and I will get you back.”

Elena’s eyes go wide with shock at his outright threat of mass murder. (What did she expect? Damon was just going to let her waltz right out of here?)

But Elena nods, putting on her most innocent expression she can muster. He starts to get out of the car, but Elena’s hand shoots out, grabbing onto his arm.

Damon stops, turning to her with a stunned look. His eyes dart between her and her hand where it willingly holds onto him. Elena almost pulls her hand back with the way his eyes burn into her.

“I just,” Elena stammers out. “I need to… use the bathroom.”

Damon narrows his eyes, instantly suspicious.

“I won’t run, I swear! You can hear me with your freaky ears, right? I won’t talk to anyone about anything, I just…” Elena trails off, unsure of herself. “Trust me, Damon, please? I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”

Damon softens at this, charmed by her self-sacrificing nature. He places his hand over hers and grasps it tightly. Elena wonders if he’ll only let her use the bathroom if he’s holding her hand. The idea makes Elena want to laugh (…and punch him).

But he lets her hand go, instead bringing his own up to cup her face. Damon purses his lips, and looks at her deeply.

“I’m trusting you, Elena,” Damon says. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Elena can’t help but smile at her victory, her forcing Damon into giving her a freedom, however small. Damon takes her smile differently, and smiles back at her, believing it to be one of mutual trust and friendship. The thought of that makes Elena’s stomach churn.

( _No, Elena, stop feeling bad for the evil vampire._ )

The first step out of the car disorients Elena, and not in the way she expected after waking up abruptly. When she gets out of the car and sees the miles of open space spreading out in front of her, she gets a bit of a head rush – like when she stands up too quickly.

Stupidly, Elena feels the sudden urge to run. She shouldn’t, she knows. Damon would be on top of her before she could even take two steps from the car, and they’d be speeding out of the station before she could get a word out.

There’s just so much _space_. And her ankle feels good again. (In the back of her mind she wonders if Damon would humor her to let her take up running as a hobby.)

But she can’t make any sudden movements if she’s to get her plan right. So she calmly walks into the little shop and asks where the bathroom is, knowing she’ll have to choose her words carefully with Damon listening intently.

The cashier stands to her right behind a counter, watching some HGTV show on the TV next to him. He’s just some teenager with curly brown hair, bored during his midday weekend shift.

Luck for Elena, she has to put her back to where Damon stands watching her as he pumps gas when she speaks to the cashier. The kid holds out some keys and tells her it’s in the back.

Locking eyes with the kid, Elena lets her face fall into a look of pure terror.

“Thanks,” she says in a normal tone, but then mouths as widely as possible _Please, help me._

The kid looks at her, confused. Elena flicks her eyes to the side, trying to indicate her inability to speak with Damon staring at her through the store window. She prays the cashier catches her message.

“Uh,” the kid starts, and Elena’s blood freezes, worried he’ll give her away.

“Right, I think the toilet is clogged. Let me go check.”

“Oh, no worries,” Elena says casually, but mouths _Thank you._ She then turns her whole body to face Damon while trying to keep her heart beat steady.

“Can I still go?” she says under her breath, knowing he can hear her.

Damon seems to mull it over for a moment, then nods at her from where he stands by his Camaro. Elena’s heart skips, and she hopes it’s not enough to tip Damon off.

When Elena reaches the bathroom, she finds the kid standing by the toilet, pretending to struggle with the plunger. Letting the door shut behind her, she turns on the faucet just for good measure. That’ll stop him from hearing her, right? Elena can only hope.

For a moment, Elena looks at the kid and thinks of how _young_ he must be, only 15 tops. She could be risking his life with her ploy. (Could she live with herself if Damon killed him because of her?)

Pushing through her nerves, Elena quickly walks over to the kid and just to be safe keeps her voice low in a whisper.

“I’m being held against my will, and I can’t escape right now, but I need you to get a message to my parents.”

The kid’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh my god, are you okay-?”

“I can’t stay long, just please, give them this message,” Elena interrupts him. She quickly tells him her mom’s cell number and brief message, hoping he has a good enough memory to get them right. She only lets herself repeat the number once before she decides it’s too risky to spend any longer in the bathroom.

Immensely grateful for this scrawny teenager’s help, and a bit emotional for him reminding her of her own brother, Elena wraps him in a bear hug for the briefest of moments, then rushes out of the bathroom.

Elena hopes her heart sounds even enough when she gets back into the car where Damon is waiting for her.

She turns to him and smiles at him, pretending the gratefulness she feels at her luck is directed all towards him.

“Thank you, Damon,” Elena says. “For trusting me.”

The corner of Damon’s mouth quirks up, and he gives Elena a once-over. Seemingly satisfied she returned without attempting to escape, he pulls out of the station.

Elena takes a deep breath as the station pulls away with no fewer human lives in it. She did it, she got a message to her parents and no one had to die. That nameless teenager will live, safe from Damon’s wrath.

“Thank you, too,” Damon says.

“For what?” Elena asks, confused.

“For coming back.”

Thankfully April stocked up on pictures of “Elena” in New York. She doesn’t know how long it will take to sort out this coven emergency, but April thinks she can draw out the remaining pictures to post once every few days for at least another two weeks. If she runs out before they find whoever killed Angela, Damon hopefully won’t be too upset.

April is interrupted by a text on Elena’s phone from _Mom_.

_-Elena, why did we just get a call from a boy in Georgia saying you were in trouble? We thought you were in New York. Honey, it’s fine if you need your space, but please call us! We need to know that you’re safe!_

April cringes inwardly, and types out a half-hearted response. She doubts Damon will be happy hearing about this when he gets here.

Damon doesn’t speak on the ride down to… wherever they’re going. Elena knows they’re in Georgia from a sign they pass, but other than that, she has no idea.

Elena is tempted to pull the annoying child act and just ask him questions about what’s going on or where they’re going until she wears him down, but decides against it. Damon seems in a strangely good mood after the gas station, and Elena figures she’ll have more of a chance of escape if he trusts her enough to give her small freedoms like that.

It puzzles her, that he trusts her. That he didn’t suspect her. That he didn’t kill that kid just for talking to Elena.

Elena is left feeling conflicted. Her image of Damon is constantly changing. First he was a dark, mysterious savior. Then a friend, and a lover. Then a psychotic kidnapper, and finally a vampire.

But apparently not as bloodthirsty as she had thought.

She thinks back to her earlier offer to Damon. Her body for her freedom. But he had turned her down, too quickly.

He still wanted her, just not enough to let her go.

Although, if she was able to seduce him, and in that way, get him to care about her more… If he could see how he was hurting her, would he let her go?

Bored, and staring out the window as miles of farmland roll past, Elena pictures herself making a pros and cons list.

In her head, her friends represent the two conflicting sides of herself. Caroline stands at the board for Pros, while Bonnie stands at the board for Cons.

“Pro!” Caroline starts gleefully. “He’s really hot.”

Elena nods to Caroline, unable to deny Damon’s particular brand of hot.

“That’s too easy,” Bonnie complains.

“It counts, though,” Caroline argues, looking for Elena’s permission to write it on her board.

“It does,” Elena agreed, shrugging towards Bonnie.

“He’s certifiably insane,” Bonnie argues, writing it on the board before Elena can even agree to it.

“He’s reaaally good in bed,” Caroline fires right back.

“He could literally kill you at any second,” Bonnie says.

“Put them on the boards,” Elena agreed with both.

“He’s really sweet sometimes,” Caroline says, hearts in her eyes.

“He literally kidnapped you,” Bonnie responds, rolling her eyes.

“You could win him over and gain your freedom,” Caroline says. Elena nods, very interested in this particular pro.

“Or you could be seduced onto his side and lose yourself forever,” Bonnie counters.

“Stockholm syndrome,” Elena says, thinking back to her earlier train of thought. “I could get brainwashed, and I might never want to leave him.”

Caroline gets quiet, seemingly unsure of whether she wants to say her next idea.

“What is it Caroline?” Elena insists.

“I think he loves you,” she says quietly, expression concerned about Elena’s reaction.

Elena’s heart clenches, wanting to deny it. She looks towards Bonnie for backup, but Bonnie only gives her a similar look.

So what if it’s true? Does that make it any easier? Does that make this right? Does it make it the right thing to do?

Elena groans and rubs her eyes in frustration, banishing the scene from her head. And she’s no less confused for it either.

“Don’t start with the ‘are-we-there-yets’,” Damon says, noticing her response. “The answer is yes, we are.”

They pull off the highway and pass through a small neighborhood. Damon takes them through it and pulls off as they approach an area of town with a few shops.

Elena finds herself in the parking lot of a pub. The sign has the words “The Witch’s Brew” on it, with a little black cat painted with its tail curling around the W. She gets out of the car and enjoys the crunch of the asphalt under her feet as she stretches after the long drive.

(If Damon’s eyes snap to the little strip of skin on her stomach that’s revealed when her shirt gets pulled up, Elena refuses to acknowledge it.)

Cranky and sore after a long drive after a poor night’s sleep, Elena takes her frustration out on Damon.

“You woke me up before dawn and hauled me all the way down here to go to a _bar_?” Elena says to him. She wouldn’t put it past him, honestly, with his expensive taste in liquor.

Damon only rolls his eyes and walks to the entrance, calling after her, “Come on, grouchy-pants.”

Elena scowls at him and plants her feet, crossing her arms in front of her in defiance. “We’re resorting to name calling now?” Elena says to Damon’s back.

Damon turns back to her and grins mischievously. “You know, I could always carry you in, like the princess you are. I’m sure you just can’t _wait_ to hop back into my strong arms-“

“Fine! I’m coming,” Elena says quickly, rushing to catch up with him. She knew Damon was just looking for excuses to touch her again, and she certainly wasn’t going to give him a chance.

The inside of the bar is cozy, with wood-paneled walls and thick wooden beams running across the ceiling, giving it a very cabin-in-the-woods vibe. It’s the middle of the day, but there are several people sitting at some tables eating lunch, and a few more nursing some drinks at the bar.

It’s wonderful, Elena thinks. So many people, there’s got to be someone here who can help her.

Damon stops her before she can walk any farther into the building, putting her arm in a steely grasp.

“My earlier rule still applies,” Damon says in her ear, smiling as if he were whispering sweet nothings to her. “You talk to anyone, you run, and everyone in here dies.”

“Don’t you think I know that by now?” Elena snaps back at him, trying unsuccessfully to wrench her arm out of his grasp. “Let me go, Damon.”

Damon’s eyes hold hers for a moment, then dart down to her lips. Elena is sure she can guess exactly what he’s thinking right now. Before she can tell him he can go screw himself, he lets go of her arm, and walks to the bar.

The close encounters that Damon keeps trapping her in does nothing to help her in her efforts to convince herself not to just say hell with it and sleep with him just for the slight chance it could aid her escape efforts.

Elena tries to calm her heart rate before following Damon. She knows he loves to point out every time her own body betrays her in her reactions to him, and she’s already grouchy from sleeping in a car.

“Thank god you’re here!” a voice calls out from the bar.

Elena barely has time to look for who called before she sees Damon being tackle-hugged by a girl around the same age as Elena with light ginger hair.

The sight of Damon getting hugged by the small woman almost makes Elena laugh were it not so strange that the _homicidal monster_ being embraced like an old friend.

(Who would be friends with someone who could be so cruel?)

“Okay, that’s enough, care-bear,” Damon gasps out breathlessly from inside of the tight hold the girl has him in. “You’ve got your cuddles, now get off of me.”

The ginger-haired girl releases him, and wipes at her eyes with her sleeves. “Sorry,” she says, sniffling. “I just didn’t know who else to ask for help.”

Elena walks up to them at the bar, confused and baffled by Damon’s “friend”.

“Oh _wow_ ,” the girl says seeing her. “You’re _Elena_! I was wondering if I’d ever get to meet you with Damon being, well, Damon. You know. Can I ask, is your hair naturally that shiny? It’s just crazy that it always looks good!”

Elena has no idea what to say to this overly enthusiastic jumble of words. The girl in front of her is practically vibrating with excitement after apparently just breaking out in tears earlier just by hugging Damon. Elena is thoroughly confused by her.

“Alright, April, stop smothering her,” Damon says. “You two will have plenty of time for girl-talk later. Tell me what happened.”

The girl – April – stops bouncing, becoming very somber. “Angela died – was murdered, I guess,” she says quietly. “I just heard and immediately came back, I’m sorry, I couldn’t finish my trip.”

Damon looks mildly frustrated, but asks, “Why do you think she was murdered?”

April bites her lip and tugs on the end of her sleeve. “It looked like it was a suicide, but… Angela would never do that. She was happy with our coven, and she was just telling me how excited she was to start training to be Olivia’s new right hand.”

April’s eyes shift around the bar, but no one is standing near them. “I think it was someone inside the coven,” she says even more quietly. “Things have been weird ever since Olivia and Ella’s falling out.”

Damon nods, seemingly familiar with the names April mentions. Elena feels very out of the loop. Suicides? Covens? What had Damon brought her into?

“But Olivia won’t hear of it – she just wants to pretend we’re a ‘strong coven’ and that everything’s fine. She won’t even look into Angela’s death! Can you try to talk to her at least?”

Damon purses his lips, but nods. “She in her office?”

“Yes,” April says quickly, “but there’s something else you should know…”

Damon turns to her expectantly. When April only looks at the floor guiltily, Damon groans.

“April, what did you do?” Damon says, exasperated.

“I didn’t do anything!” April defends quickly, putting her hands up in a display of innocence. “It’s just… I got a text message? From Elena’s parents…”

April cringes, expecting Damon’s suspicious glare to turn into anger.

“And what did it say?” Damon says tersely.

“They were wondering why they got a message from a gas station boy in Georgia…” April says, her voice getting quieter until Elena could barely hear the last word.

_Oh no._

Damon’s anger then turns on Elena. He stares her down and she can’t help but shrink from him. He knows now that she betrayed his trust and took advantage of him. _Whoops_.

“Elena,” Damon says, her name falling from his mouth like an accusation. “You shouldn’t make your parents worry unnecessarily.”

“Unnecessarily?” Elena questions. “Why wouldn’t they be worried sick after not hearing anything from me for over a week?”

Damon holds her stare, but calls, “April.”

Beside her, April mutters something that sounds almost like gibberish, maybe Latin.

Tearing her eyes away from Damon’s, Elena looks over to April, but then gasps. April isn’t there anymore.

Instead, there stands Elena.

An exact copy of herself, barring her clothes.

Elena gasps, and looks around the bar, but none of the other patrons seem to notice, or care, that the girl in front of her has just shape-shifted into an exact copy of her.

“Your loving parents are deeply concerned for you, but only because you had a mental breakdown and decided to go on a spontaneous road trip after your break up with Matt,” Damon says, still glowering over her.

Elena gapes at him, at April. “You-?”

“Thanks for that idea, by the way,” Damon says, grinning at her maliciously. “I guess I have a gas station to revisit.”

 _No._ Not him. Elena can picture Damon speeding into the little gas station store and ripping through that poor boy’s neck. She thought she was careful. She thought he wouldn’t know. She thought she hadn’t endangered him, but now he would die, and it was all her fault.

“Don’t!” Elena snaps at him, pushing herself up as tall as she can to match his glare. Their faces are so close she can see her furious expression in his eyes. “Don’t you dare touch him. He had nothing to do with this.”

“He has _everything_ to do with it, Elena,” Damon bites back. “As long as you keep trying to leave, I will hurt everyone around you.”

“It won’t matter, in the end,” Elena hisses. “No matter how many people you hurt or you kill. You will _never_ have me. I will _always_ try to escape, and _when_ I do - because I will figure out how to get away – you will _never_ see me again.”

Elena storms away from him before she can burst into tears. She hates being an angry crier. Tears are so useless. They won’t save her, and they certainly won’t save that poor boy.

April watches Elena storm into the bathroom, sighing, and morphing back into her own body. Damon really does not know how to handle his women.

“Woah, where do you think you’re going?” April calls after Damon as he stalks towards the bathroom. She inserts herself between him and the door. Oops, bad move, putting herself between an angry vampire and his target April’s heart pounds as he glares at her with vampiric features.

 _Calm down,_ she tells herself. _It’s just Damon_.

“You can’t go in there!” April says.

“Why not?” Damon nearly growls out.

“You’re just going to make things worse if you go after her,” April explains. “You’re going to be mad, and threaten her, and she’s only going to hate you more.”

“I need to talk to her. She – she needs to know, I have to tell her –“ Damon says haltingly.

“What? You don’t even know what you’re going to say, and I promise whatever you come up with will only make it worse than it already is,” April states.

Damon already seems deflated. April can see the hurt beginning to show across his face as Elena’s words begin to sink in, and her betrayal. April frowns and puts her hands on his shoulders comfortingly.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll go talk to her. You just need to give Elena her space. Why don’t you go talk to Olivia in the meantime? I promise Elena will be better after I talk to her, witch’s honor,” April says, crossing her finger over her heart.

Damon frowns, but nods, and turns towards Olivia’s office.

April sighs. What a mess. She feels bad for the guy, she honestly does. After all he’s been through, and now he thinks he can just force Elena into staying with him, into loving him? April shakes her head.

She’s not one to play match-maker, but for everything Damon has done for her over the years, all the favors exchanged and lives saved, April can’t help but feel the need to help him out. So she follows Elena into the bathroom.

Elena sits in one of the stalls on the toilet seat, sniffling and clutching a ball of toilet paper she uses to wipe her tears.

“Elena?” April says, kneeling down in front of her. “He doesn’t mean that, he’s only trying to scare you.”

Elena looks at her through the tears in her eyes. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“Why are you helping him?” Elena says, voice thick from crying. “Why won’t you help me escape? I want to go home, I just want to go home.”

April feels very uncomfortable, putting her hand up on Elena’s shoulder, barely touching it.

“I owe Damon my life. He’s saved me, and the people in my coven, countless times. So we help him, because we owe him.” April drops her hand from Elena’s shoulder. “And, I trust him. Whatever fucked up shit Damon is going through right now, he must have his reason for doing this to you. And hey, I’m pretty sure he won’t keep you hostage forever! He’ll sort his shit out. You’ve just gotta accept him as he is.”

Elena gets angry with April then. “Damon has threated to kill my entire family – my entire town! How can you just accept that?”

 _Good going, moron_ , April thinks. Damon is really good at screwing things up most of the time.

“Yeah, Damon can be really mean sometimes,” April concedes. “But has he? Has he ever done anything to hurt you, or anyone you know?”

Elena balks at that, cut short in her anger. April watches as Elena sorts through her memories of Damon, trying to come up with something he did wrong.

“No,” Elena says, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. “But he… he’s keeping me against my will. That’s not okay!”

April holds her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “No, it’s totally not… But it’s only been, what, a week? I’d give it a month tops before he sends you back, right as rain!”

“A month?” Elena gasps.

“Mm, well, maybe two,” April says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “And of course, that’s only if he’s sure you won’t turn him in.”

Elena groans and sinks to the floor.

“He obviously cares for you if he’s going to all these lengths for you,” April points out softly.

“How can you say that? He’s a monster,” Elena says.

April shrugs. “Vampires aren’t monsters. They’re just people in a different situation. Just like werewolves aren’t monsters, and I’m certainly not one just cause I’m a witch. We’re all just trying to get along in the world. Sure there are bad ones here and there, but I swear, Damon’s one of the good ones.”

“Why not help me, then, if you’re such a powerful witch? Or are your powers limited to just pretending to be me?”

April bristles at that, wants to show Elena just how powerful she really can be. But Elena is just scared and lashing out, April must remember that. And April promised Damon she’d help him.

“Well, yes I am a very powerful witch, in a very powerful coven. But Damon would kill me if I tried anything with you, and I’m not about to test my strength against an unstable hundred-and-fifty year old vampire. And anyways, he’s my friend,” April finishes, defensive.

Elena groans again and puts her head in her hands. “Could you at least just… I don’t know, look the other way for five minutes?”

April gives Elena a sly grin. She likes Elena, hopes she finds her way back to happiness eventually.

“You wouldn’t make it out the door before I call him back here,” April states simply.

“Was worth a shot,” Elena grumbles.

“Come on,” April says. “That toilet seat can’t be comfortable. How about I buy you a drink?”

At that, Elena perks up. “I did recently find a taste for expensive whiskey.”

April laughs and helps pull Elena up from the floor. “Yeah, I’ll bet you have, hanging around Damon all the time. Come on, I take you for a Shirley temple kind of girl.”

Elena looks at her sideways. “Are you psychic, too?”

April laughs again. She really does like Elena.

“No, I can just tell you could use something sweet and fun.”

Elena _loves_ Shirley temples. They’re sweet and bubbly and she can barely taste the alcohol. She’s had two before she even realizes how fast she’s sucking them down through the funny straw in the glass.

Elena also loves April. April is fun and sweet and hilarious. She busted out the tunes and the drinks and Elena loves her taste in music. Something between acoustic and punk music with just a bit too much emotion in it that makes Elena feel _alive_.

The best thing is that Damon is nowhere to be seen. She can just talk freely and sway in her seat to the music playing through the speakers.

“He’s an asshole!” Elena says, a bit louder than she means to.

April giggles and puts another pretzel in her mouth. “Yeah?”

“He’s so _full_ of himself, so cocky! He’s always _smirking_ and trying to get back in my pants-“

“So he’s been there before?” April smiles knowingly.

“I- No! I just-“ Elena stammers.

“Relax, you don’t have to kiss and tell,” April says, teasing.

“No, you don’t understand,” Elena tries again. “That was before I knew he was a vamp- oh!”

Elena looks around the bar at the other patrons and lowers her voice.

“You know,” it comes out more as a stage whisper than an actual whisper, though. “Vampire!”

April laughs. “Elena, you don’t have to whisper. Everyone here is in the coven. Olivia closed the bar to other patrons until this whole mess blows over.”

Elena gasps overdramatically in her tipsy state. “Really? That’s why no one reacted when you shapeshifted into me! Hey, you were me!”

Elena grips April’s shoulders and shakes her, nearly tipping over herself.

“You are a witch,” Elena states.

“Yes, I am,” April says, nodding and amused.

“And Damon is a vampire,” Elena says, very serious.

“Yes, he is.”

“And I,” Elena says. “I look like some random chick from a hundred years ago.”

“I know,” April says patiently.

Elena thinks for a moment, which is difficult after drinking two Shirley temples.

“That’s so boring!”

Elena throws her hands in the air, then collapses herself onto the counter. April rubs her back comfortingly.

“Why couldn’t I have special powers?” Elena says, the sound coming out garbled with her cheek pressed against the counter.

“Are you doing alright?” the bartender asks Elena. A nice guy, asking her if she’s okay.

“I’m completely normal,” Elena laments, pulling herself up.

Oh, bartender guy is cute.

He’s giving her a sweet, concerned look. “I’m… sorry?”

“It’s fine,” Elena says, leaning in towards him. “Are you a witch, too?”

“Yes,” bartender guy says, smiling at her. Elena nods and turns to April.

“Bartender guy is a witch, too,” she fake-whispers again. “I didn’t know guys could be witches.”

April and bartender guy exchange a look.

“Well, Alex is new, but he’s a great witch,” April says.

“Oh are you?” Elena says coyly. “Can you show me a few things?”

Alex smiles. “What kind of things do you want to see?”

Elena taps her chin, pretending to think it over.

“Why don’t you take me somewhere private and I can tell you?” Elena says, leaning closer and giving Alex a fantastic view of her cleavage.

Alex laughs at her forwardness, and is about to respond-

Damon is there in an instant, pulling Elena back off the bar and into his chest from behind her.

“You touch her, and you’ll lose your hands.” Damon’s voice is as hard as his grip around her.

Elena is tipsy, though, and his threats seem less…threatening.

“Damon,” she says, squirming against him. “Let me go. I just wanted him to show me his magic.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, dude, I didn’t know she was taken,” Alex says, apologetic.

“I’m not _taken_ ,” Elena asserts, trying to put her hands on her hips. In Damon’s grasp, she only manages to hike up her shoulders. “I’m recently _single_ thank you very much.”

“Is that what you are?” Damon growls in her ear.

“And I’m sure you wanted to show her your ‘magic’, _dude_ ,” Damon turns to Alex.

“Yeah, well I’m sure his magic is much nicer than your _fangs_ ,” Elena snaps.

Damon moves his arms from where they encircle her, and strokes them down her sides to hold her hips.

“I can show you how nice my fangs can be,” he purrs into her ear, too low for the others to hear.

“If you even think about flirting with Elena again,” Damon says louder, turning to Alex. Craning her neck, Elena thinks she can see veins snaking out from Damon’s eyes.

“Hey, she can make her own choicess!” Alex retorts. “She just said she was single. Get off of her, man.”

Alex comes out from behind the bar towards where Damon is restraining Elena.

“No, Alex, don’t!” Elena tries to warn him, but Damon moves in front of her, blocking her view of Alex.

“Yes, Alex, please do,” Damon eggs him on. “Since you know so much about Elena and all of her _choices_.”

“Leave him alone, Damon,” Elena says to Damon’s back.

“You can’t tell her what to do,” Alex says, crowding Damon.

“Actually, you’ll find I can,” Damon says, hand coming up to wrap around Alex’s neck.

“Damon, stop!!” Elena shrieks from behind him, pounding her fists on his back.

A force throws Elena back a few feet, which she belatedly realizes is Damon’s body crashing into hers. Before she lands, her world spins and Damon catches her in a split second, cradling her head before it can crack against the floor.

Damon looks at her with concern before deciding she’s alright. Pulling her up, he spins in fury.

“That’s enough, boys,” says a woman with long dark hair. “The poor girl can’t take much more.”

“You fucking throw me like a ragdoll, and that’s all you have to say?” Damon says to the woman. “You nearly hurt her yourself!”

“Yeah, Ella,” April says from the wall she’d withdrawn from, trying to stay out of Damon’s way. “You could’ve killed her with a force spell like that.”

Ella only examines her nails and leans back against the bar. “But I didn’t,” she says causally. “Run along now, Damon. So sorry you couldn’t convince mother-dear to help with your silly problem.”

Still fuming, Damon stalks up to Ella, his height overwhelming hers, yet not phasing her in the slightest.

“Don’t do that again. You can’t take me down alone, and you can bet no one else will side against me,” he says curtly, then turns back to Elena, who’s still dizzy from her drinks and being thrown three feet backwards.

“Damon, wait!” April calls after him, running after him as he stalks out the door. “You won’t give up, right? You’re not leaving?”

Not turning, Damon calls back to her. “I’ll be back after I’ve dealt with Elena. I still owe you a favor, don’t I?”

“Yeah, true,” she says, breathless from trying to match his pace. When Damon stops at the car he lowers Elena into her seat, careful of not letting her head hit the door frame. “Damon, please don’t be too harsh on her. I was only trying to patch her up after the state you left her in, remember? I thought a few drinks would make her feel better!”

“Yeah, remind me to never let you speak to Elena again,” Damon says sardonically.

From her viewpoint looking out the window, Elena sees April frown with the saddest of puppy-eyes.

“No, Damon, please! We were getting to be really good friends!” April says, clasping her hands together. “God knows she could use it if the only person she’s had to talk to recently is you!”

Damon’s back tenses in what Elena assumes is anger. She wants to plead to Damon to let her stay with April. In her effort to reach out to him, she keels over the edge of the car, still too dizzy.

Damon catches her again, looking up at her in worry with those piercing eyes of his. Far too intense for Elena.

(She doesn’t want to think of the emotion lingering there.)

“April is nice,” Elena manages to get out. “Please?”

Damon purses his lips, but nods. “You can come babysit her later. I’ll text you,” he tells April.

Damon helps Elena lean back in her seat and fastens her seat belt, as if she were a toddler in need of securing.

(In her drunken state, Elena wonders if Damon is into tying people up during sex.)

April sighs in relief, then pokes her head through Elena’s window as Damon climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Hang in there, Elena. Don’t let Damon push you around too much,” April advises.

“I’m regretting this decision already,” Damon groans, then pulls out of the parking lot.

In the fading light, Elena stares wistfully back at her new friend as they drive away from the bar.

(Though, can she really be a friend? If she let Damon take her away again?)

Damon puts them up in the best hotel in town, which, due to its small size, is only a 3 star hotel. Before Elena can even get her hopes up, she sees there’s not even a phone in the room to use.

But even so, to Elena, it’s everything. It’s a small taste of the freedom she feels herself inching towards. Every piece of it that isn’t the boarding house gives Elena a burst of happiness. The cable box hooked up to the TV. The small desk with a notepad on top. The boring furnishings, though paltry in comparison to the boarding house’s, feel so cozy and mundane. Elena could squeal.

The only problem is the one bed in the middle of the room. Elena gives Damon a scathing look.

“What? They were booked up with all their double rooms.”

Elena is highly skeptical of this.

“I am not sleeping with you, in either sense of the phrase.”

Damon pouts, teasing her. “Who’s gonna protect you from the monsters under the bed?”

“I wouldn’t need protecting if the one monster in the room would just leave me alone,” Elena fires back, emboldened by the buzz she’s still riding on. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that poor boy you threatened!”

“I wouldn’t need to threaten him if you stopped trying to leave me!” Damon’s tone turns to anger.

“And why would I _ever_ stop trying to leave you? You lie to me, you manipulate me. You said I wanted passion and adventure, but I can’t have those things if I don’t have my _freedom_ , Damon!”

“I can still give you those things, Elena,” Damon drops his voice lower, pleading with her. He takes her hands before she can back away from him, his grip too strong for her to tug free. “I can give you everything you want if you just stay with me.”

“Why would I want _anything_ from you? You’re a _vampire_ , a blood-sucking _monster!”_ Elena raises her voice, nearly shouting in his face with her anger.

Damon gives her a look. Elena has trouble deciphering it until he speaks.

“Consider this monster’s feelings hurt,” Damon says. And that’s what it must be, Elena realizes.

She hurt Damon’s feelings.

She’s so surprised by it she almost laughs, her anger swept out from under her.

Damon gives her a very serious look, though. He ducks his head so that they’re eye to eye and looks at her through his dark lashes.

“I would never bite you without your consent,” Damon says.

“You’re still trying to get into bed with me,” Elena says stubbornly.

I won’t touch you,” Damon promises. “Not until you specifically ask me for it.”

He looks at Elena so intensely that she feels her chest ache with the weight behind it. Elena thinks back to April’s words. How Damon is trying hard for Elena, and how Elena should give him a chance.

“What about the dreams?” Elena says accusingly.

Damon takes Elena’s hands in his face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks in a loving gesture.

“I swear to you, any dreams you have of me will be entirely of your own creation.”

Elena’s heart is in her throat, and she tries to avoid Damon’s gaze. She can’t look at him, because every time he looks at her like that-

(Like she’s everything to him.)

(Like he would do anything for her.)

(Like he loves her.)

Elena knows if she keeps looking at him, keeps letting him in, he’ll get inside her head.

Inside of her heart.

Elena can’t let him mess her up like that. He’s the monster, she can’t forget that. No matter how much he pretends he’s not. She knows what he is.

A vampire. A psychotic kidnapper. A liar and manipulator. A monster who threatens to kill an entire town just for one girl.

(She’s having a harder time trying to convince herself, though.)

“Fine,” Elena says softly, still trying (failing) to avoid Damon’s eyes. “Just stay on your side of the bed.”

Damon smirks, but there’s real joy behind his eyes at her acceptance.

Elena tugs at his wrists. “You can let me go now,” she urges.

Damon releases her, and goes to unpack his bag. Feeling uncomfortable after a long car drive, Elena gathers a change of clothes and heads to the bathroom.

“I can’t.”

Elena spins around in the threshold of the bathroom. Damon’s back is to her, still unpacking. She wonders if she imagined his words.

“What?” Elena says.

“I can’t let you go,” Damon says, like he’s choking around the words. When he turns around, he still has a serious expression, which stops Elena from getting angry immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Damon says. “I’m not strong enough.”

And Elena does not know what to do with that, so she just holds Damon’s gaze for another moment, then closes the bathroom door.

Having the physical barrier between them takes a weight off of Elena that she didn’t realize she was holding. She feels like she can finally breathe fully again.

The hot water and steam wrap around her. It helps her let go of the twisted thoughts buzzing around in her head. Elena lets them sink down the drain, forgotten for the moment while she can just be with herself.

True to his word, Damon stays on the left side of the bed, putting ample amounts of space between him and Elena. He doesn’t even crack a joke or tease Elena before they go to sleep. Just wishes her a good night and bids her to sleep well.

Though he did flash her a hungry look when she came out of the shower, hair still dripping and her sleep shorts exposing most of her legs.

But he just showers himself, and lays on the bed next to her. Under the covers.

Elena decides to try to stay awake until she is sure Damon’s asleep. Just to make sure he doesn’t try anything.

Elena is honestly surprised when she hears his breathing even out before she falls asleep.

Elena turns from her back onto her side. She looks at Damon’s face, realizes it’s the first time she’s seen him asleep.

In the small bit of moonlight spilling through the window, Damon looks almost like a marble statue. Chiseled and perfect.

But there’s also an innocence to him, an openness she hasn’t seen before. It draws Elena in, and before she realizes it she’s touching his face.

Damon inhales more deeply, and for a moment Elena worries she’s woken him up.

But he only settles more deeply into sleep, then turns his head into her hand.

For some reason, Elena feels like she wants to cry.

She studies Damon while he sleeps for a long time before she realizes why.

Without all his fronts and lies and walls up, Damon looks kind. Elena wants to know this sweet person in front of her. The person he was before he was turned into a vampire, before he was twisted and manipulated by Katherine Pierce.

She thinks she would’ve liked him.

Elena dreams of moonlight and a boy with dark hair, lonely and sad. She wants to comfort him.

Elena kneels down to the boy and finds that there are tear tracks staining his cheeks. Her hands come up to his face and brush them away.

His eyes open, and they are the most startling shade of blue. They pierce her with sadness.

“Why are you crying?” Elena asks him.

“I’m alone,” he says simply.

“No, you’re not,” Elena says, shaking her head. “I’m here with you now.”

She wraps her arms around the boy. His sadness seeps into her, and Elena realizes she needs the comfort as much as he does.

“No,” the boy says. “You’re going to leave, too.”

Tears rolls down Elena’s face. “I promise, I won’t.”

But even as she says it, she knows it’s true. She can’t stay with him. Elena will wake up, and leave the boy. And then they’ll both be alone.

The thought makes her hold the boy tighter, as if she could stay in the dream together if she only holds him tight enough.

Elena wakes still curled tightly around a body. The sadness lingers with her, though, and she curls herself tighter still around it.

“If I needed to breathe, you would be killing me,” Damon says from under her.

Her eyes shoot open as she realizes she’s curled herself tightly around Damon, tangling her legs with him.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “Don’t stop. I don’t mind being strangled.”

Elena tries to extricate herself from him, but he winds his arms around her before she can pull away. She tries to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

“You wanna tell me what you were dreaming of?” Damon says, smirking down at her.

Elena remembers her dream, and her eyes fill with tears unwillingly. She ducks her face into his chest, trying not to let him see.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. He wraps his arms around her tighter. “I swear, you latched on to me, I didn’t do anything.”

“Let me go, Damon.” Elena says, muffled against his chest.

Damon doesn’t. He always holds her a bit longer, a bit tighter. It makes her heart ache inside her chest.

But he does let go. Elena shoots off the bed and into the bathroom so she can wash the tears away.

The door between her and Damon helps again. She needs the physical distance, so she can get emotional distance from him. He’s sucked her in and she’s finding it harder and harder to push herself away.

(How right it felt to be in his arms, like the day after they spent the night together.)

Elena can’t let herself feel this way though. Her freedom is more important than his feelings, or this strange connection that’s developing between them.

Damon already feels far too much for the both of them. Elena must close herself off before-

(Before she’s falls for him.)

So Elena pushes her feelings as deeply as she can. She has one mission on this trip. This may be her only shot at escaping, and she won’t miss it when the opportunity comes.

Damon brings them back to The Witch’s Brew and tells Elena to order breakfast while they wait for April to show up.

“She’s not big on mornings, so she probably won’t even wake up for the next hour,” he explains.

Elena orders the blueberry pancakes, surprised that a bar would even sell breakfast food. She supposes it has to be a catch-all kind of place with how small the town is.

Still shaken from her earlier dream, Elena only absently picks at the pancakes. Needing a distraction, she decides to finally demand to know from Damon what exactly is going on with this witch coven.

Damon sighs and settles back in his chair, clasping his hands together in front of him. “You heard April yesterday. Her witchy friend seemed to commit suicide, but April’s convinced it was murder.”

Elena pushes a blueberry around on her plate. “Well who was that ‘Olivia’ person you went and spoke with?”

“Olivia owns this place. She’s the head of the coven, the matriarch. But she’d rather bury this investigation than help me with it.”

“So why don’t we just leave?” Elena asks. And regrets doing so immediately. Why would she stupidly regret leaving when she needs to buy herself as much time to escape as possible?

“Can’t,” Damon says brusquely, and Elena is instantly relieved. “They helped me out with a few pretty big favors recently and I’d never get their help again if I didn’t repay them.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Elena asks.

“Find the murderer in the coven. Kill them,” Damon says nonchalantly.

“So you’ve dragged me all the way here while there’s a killer witch loose?” Elena says incredulously.

“Aw, are you scared?” Damon teases. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Elena scowls and flicks a blueberry at him. He catches it with his vampire speed, then pops it in his mouth.

It’s so ridiculous that she actually lets herself laugh. And it feels good to laugh. Elena basks in the feeling of simple happiness for a single moment.

She sees Damon looking at her, and she knows he’s happy, too, caught on the infectious edge of her laughter.

“Aw, you two are adorable,” April says, breaking up their momentary affinity.

“We’re not!” Elena says, incensed.

Damon leans forward, smiling now. “We so are.”

Elena shoves a large piece of pancake in her mouth, refusing to look at either of them as she chews.

April pulls up a chair and begins talking with Damon about coven matters. Elena does her best to ignore them, but hears the edges of their conversation.

Damon mentions how Olivia is refusing to help with the investigation, and how a body will turn up sooner or later. They discuss some of the relationships within the coven, but it barely catches Elena’s notice as she decidedly scorns them for their teasing her.

“Could be Alex,” Damon says.

“You just want it to be him so you can kill him for flirting with Elena.”

Damon shrugs and leaves the table. Some scuffling near the bar draws Elena’s attention to him.

“Screw you,” Alex is saying as Damon crowds him next to the bar. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Sure you are,” Damon says, letting his eyes bleed red for a show of intimidation.

“April, how many fingers do witches actually need to do spells?” Damon calls.

“We don’t need our fingers to do spells,” April says automatically. “Why- oh! Damon! Cut it out!”

“Hm, so you don’t need any fingers…” Damon grips Alex’s hand in his, bends them into a painful looking angle. Elena cringes, wants to cry out. But she worries it would only upset Damon further.

“Fuck! Dude, fine! I’ll tell you!”

Damon bends them even more. “Call me _dude_ one more time and I’m biting your head off your neck.”

“Alright, alright!” Alex says, cradling his hand after Damon lets go.

“Look, things have been weird ever since Olivia’s last right hand died,” Alex explains.

“How did she die?” Damon presses.

“Old age,” Alex says.

“Sure she did,” Damon says, giving Alex a skeptical look.

“Anyways,” Alex continues. “Then Oliva and Ella had a fight for some reason. I’m guessing Olivia didn’t think she was responsible enough to take on the role, but Ella saw it as her right to the position, since she’s her daughter. And since then, the entire coven has been out of balance since, everyone fighting and trying to become the next right hand. We thought things would calm down after Olivia picked Angela. We never dreamed anyone would kill her for the position, though.”

Damon continues to give Alex a suspicious glare.

“Well I didn’t kill her!” Alex blurts out.

“Yeah, he sounds innocent to me,” Elena says, coming to Alex’s aid now that he’s not in immediate danger.

Damon shoots her a withering glare. “You stay out of this.”

“Aren’t I allowed to play detective, too?” Elena defends.

“Sure, Watson,” Damon says, rolling his eyes. “But you’re biased by pretty-boy over here.”

Elena gives Alex a once-over, drawing it out to really stick it to Damon. “Mm, you’re right, he is pretty.”

Alex looks nervously at both of them, not wanting to get caught between the two.

Damon saunters back over to the table where Elena sits. He puts his hands on either arm of her chair and leans down to her, caging her in.

“I thought you preferred the dark and handsome type,” he murmurs to her.

And dammit if he still doesn’t have the same impact on her as always, setting her heart racing and her face aflame. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t built up a small tolerance to the effects, so she manages a half-witty response.

“Actually, I prefer the _human_ type,” Elena retorts.

Before Damon can reply, April interrupts them with a flailing of her arms next to them.

“Hey, hey! Stop it! Someone else in the coven has been missing from last night. I just got a text from her sister! Apparently she walked into the woods saying she needed to check something out, and never came back!”

Damon continues to engage in a staring match with Elena, and she defiantly thrusts her chin up, refusing to back down.

“Have your lover’s quarrel later! She could be in danger!” April insists.

Turning his head, but not moving away from Elena, Damon makes a face at April. “Fine, I’ll go check it out.”

“Can I come?” Elena says quickly, hoping for an opportunity to sneak away while Damon will be distracted.

“No!” Damon says immediately. “April, take Elena back to the hotel room, and make sure she stays there.”

Elena deflates, leaning back in her chair.

April claps her hands in glee, though. Why, Elena doesn’t know. Not until April pushes Damon away from her, pulls her out of her chair, and happily declares:

“Girl’s day in!”

April loves hanging out with Elena in the hotel room. Elena seems wary of her at first, but warms up quickly when April starts making objects float around the room, gasping and looking around in wonder.

April can’t help but love the attention. It’s been so long since she’s had someone new to show off to.

“Can I brush your hair?” she says abruptly.

“Are you actually obsessed with my hair?” Elena says jokingly.

“It’s so soft!” April says emphatically.

So April brushes Elena’s long, soft hair while Elena turns on the TV and starts flipping through channels. Snippets of dialogue from various shows and movies start floating out of the speakers.

“…That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying ‘As you wish,’ what he meant was ‘I love you.’”

“Oh! Stay on this channel!” April squeals. “I love The Princess Bride!”

Elena laughs, but doesn’t disagree with her. April is surprised to find that Elena can even quote parts of the movie.

Too soon, though, their fun is spoiled by April’s phone ringer.

“What is it, Damon?” April answers.

“I found the body,” Damon says back to her. April’s face falls.

She had hoped no one else in their coven would die. It was the only family she had ever known, and it was being torn apart.

“You need to come see this,” Damon says. “Can you put a spell or something around the room to keep Elena in? I don’t want her to see this.”

“Yes, of course,” April says. “I’ll be there soon. Where should I meet you?”

“Come to the bar, I’ll lead you from there.”

April hangs up, then quickly goes about saying the spell.

“What was that about? What did you just do?” Elena questions.

“Sorry to have to cut our hangout short,” April apologizes. And she is sorry. She was having an awesome time with Elena, and she hopes they can become closer friends.

“I had to put a spell on the room to keep you in. I’ll be back soon. Or Damon will be. You’ll be safe, either way.”

April goes to leave, but before she can reach the door, Elena scrambles up from her seated position and follows her.

“Wait! Wait if you and Damon get hurt?” she says, sounding fearful.

Touched by Elena’s concern, April smiles at her. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“No,” Elena shakes her head. “What if you and Damon die? Will I just be stuck in this room forever?”

“Oh,” April says, disappointed. She’s a little hurt, but she understands where Elena is coming from.

“No, the spell will dissipate if I die. You’ll be free to go,” April says with chagrin. “Do you want us to not come back now?”

Elena’s eyes go wide and she shakes her head emphatically. “No! Of course not!”

She takes April’s hands in her own, and looks at her with honest concern.

“Why would I want my friend to die?” Elena says sweetly.

April smiles. “I’ll be back, then, friend.”

Damon leads April to a deep part of the forest, past where the hiking trails lead.

It’s obvious it’s a murder, this time. The body is nearly completely desiccated, despite being alive only a few hours ago. But still, it looks like a mummy.

“Any ideas?” Damon asks April.

“It looks… like someone drained her,” April says, baffled.

“There aren’t any bite marks, though, I checked,” Damon says, confused.

“No, drained her of her life, completely. Like, with magic. It’s definitely a witch in the coven.”

Elena sits in the hotel room by herself for five minutes before she gets bored. She almost wishes Damon was here, annoying her with his seductive charm.

Not a moment later, and the door opens.

“Hey there ‘Lena,” Ella says, sauntering in and throwing herself into the chair by the door.

“How did you get in here?” Elena says. “April did a spell to lock me in!”

“Yeah, a spell that prevents you from leaving doesn’t stop me from coming and going,” Ella says, as if she were explaining that two plus two equaled four.

“Well, why are you here?” Elena says, suspiciously. “Come to throw me around some more?”

Even though Ella had said she wasn’t intending to hurt her when pushing Damon, she gets the feeling Ella holds some sort of grudge over her. She stays on her guard, watching Ella’s movements. Waiting for her to lash out.

“Please,” Ella scoffs. “I wasn’t aiming for you. Damon was trying to kill my coven-mate. It was just self-defense.”

“Self-defense tends to involve defense of the _self_ ,” Elena points out.

Ella rolls her eyes. “Has no one explained how witch covens work to you?”

Elena shrugs and shakes her head. “I didn’t know vampires were real until a few days ago. How am I supposed to understand the social dynamics of witch groups?”

“Covens,” Ella asserts.

“Okay, covens,” Elena acquiesces. “So what about how covens work?”

“The strength of the coven comes from every witch within the coven. The more witches, the stronger the coven. Covens hold power. Each witch can draw from that power to aid their spells. My power comes from my coven. Self-defense,” Ella explains.

“I see,” Elena says, as if it makes getting tossed around by Ella any better.

(It doesn’t.)

Ella takes something out of her jacket pocket and opens it. It glints silver in the light.

“Is that a knife?” Elena scrambles backwards on the bed, wondering if Ella really does hate her for some reason.

“Relax,” Ella says.

(Elena does not.)

“It’s not for you.” Ella doesn’t move towards Elena, instead pulling out a long skinny thing.

A block of wood, Elena realizes, as Ella begins carving into it with the knife, shaving little bits off the end.

“Why are you here then?” Elena says, not even bothering to keep the suspicion out of her voice. If Ella doesn’t like her, there’s not much Elena can do.

(It’s not like Damon left her a phone for her to be able to call him for his help.)

“You and Damon blew in here like a tornado, you know. Causing problems. The entire coven is in chaos, trying to find out who this non-existent witch killer is.”

“That’s not our fault!” Elena says. “We came to-“

Elena stops mid-sentence.

(There’s no we when it comes to her and Damon. Damon came. Elena was brought.)

“Damon came to help. People are dying.”

“One person,” Ella disagrees. “She killed herself, end of story. You two had to show up and freak everyone out.”

“So what do you want, then?” Elena demands.

“I want you to leave.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly the one who makes decisions around here,” Elena says indignantly.

“Oh please,” Ella scoffs. “I’ve seen Damon around you. He’ll bend over backwards to keep you safe.”

“So? I’m not in danger here.” Elena crosses her arms over her chest.

Ella stops her carving. She looks up at Elena and smiles.

“Yet,” Ella says.

“Are you threatening me?” Elena says, nervous.

“…not yet,” Ella says. “I’m just here to… stir the pot.”

Ella mutters a something, similar to April’s spellcasting earlier.

Nothing happens though.

“It didn’t work, whatever you tried,” Elena snaps.

“No, it did,” Ella says, smirking. “Make sure Damon knows I want you two out of my town. Or else my next spell won’t be as… enjoyable.”

The way Ella says it makes Elena shiver.

Ella opens the door to leave, but tosses her the carving before she does. Elena fumbles, but catches it.

It’s a stake. Elena looks up at Ella questioningly.

“To spice things up,” Ella says, and laughs. She blows Elena a kiss, and then is gone.

Damon feels the weight of the spell before he feels the effects of it.

April’s in the middle of speculating why the body would be in the middle of the woods. She mentions something about an altar, but Damon doesn’t catch anything else as the spell sets in.

In the middle of April’s sentence, Damon’s mind completely loses focus. His thoughts blur together and float away from him, making him dizzy.

Suddenly, all he can think about is Elena.

No, not just Elena. His focus on her is more specific. All he can think about is need and want and take and _mine._

The force of his lust knocks him off his feet, and he lands on his knees. Distantly, he can hear April shout in worry, calling to him.

“Elena,” he manages to choke out. “I need her, need to get to her _now_.”

Damon digs his hands into the earthy ground in front of him, trying to ground himself. It works, a little, and he can hear what April is saying.

“Oh my god,” April exclaims. “It has to be a lust spell. You need to go!”

Damon shakes his head, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails cut into his palms.

The pain pales in comparison to a wave of agony that passes over him next.

“I can’t,” Damon growls out. “I can’t do that to her, she’d never forgive me.”

“She’s feeling the same thing you are, Damon!” April says, sounding panicked. “You really need to go, or you could both die!”

“What?!” Damon roars. “What do you mean?”

“It’s the spell!” April cries, pushing at him now, trying to get him to move. “If you fight against it, you’ll both combust - literally! Now fucking move!”

Damon fights it for another moment, feeling torn. But then he’s hit with another wave of pain – like a burning fever ripping through him and twisting his insides into knots.

Then he’s running as fast as he can, tearing towards Elena with as much power his vampiric nature affords him.

He doesn’t even need to stop to try to figure out his directions. Damon feels Elena like a magnet pulling him towards her.

He’s back at the hotel in minutes, and as soon as he can see her, the pain washes away.

Elena looks sinful, though she’s fully clothed. Damon’s eyes trace her legs, her hips, the curve of her breasts.

Even her exposed _collarbone_ is enough to send him into lustful overdrive.

“Damon!” Elena gasps when she notices him there. Damon kicks the door shut behind him and tries to take a deep breath to calm himself. Her smell hangs in the air, though, and it’s so sweet and tempting.

“What’s going on? I felt…sick,” Elena says, clutching her stomach. “Ella was here and she threatened me and said some sort of spell…”

Damon doesn’t want to keep letting Elena talk. He wants to fling himself across the room and capture her mouth in his. Wants to press his entire body into hers. Except the want is more like a need, like needing Elena is like needing the feeling of blood wetting his throat. Every fiber of his being is telling him he needs to get to Elena right now.

“It is a spell,” Damon manages. Without the pain, he’s able to keep his distance from her, still unwilling to touch her without her asking him to. “We just have to ride it out.”

Elena looks at him, breathing heavily. Damon is certain she wants him as much as he does. Her face is flushed prettily, her heart pounding beneath her chest. The sound calls to him, adding to his need to take her.

“Ride it out?” Elena squeaks, obviously in denial.

In response to her question, Damon shucks off his shoes and peels off his shirt. The relief he feels of the cool air on his chest barely registers through his feverish want of her.

“No, no way,” Elena says, holding her hands up in front of her. “You can ride it out yourself, so stay away from me.”

Damon clarifies, “No, we have to let it take its course, or the effects will only get worse.”

“I’ll kill you if you touch me.” Elena threatens, holding her hand out further. Damon belatedly realizes she’s holding an object in it.

“Unfortunately, I won’t let you stop me this time,” Damon says, regretfully. “Where did you get a stake?!”

“I’m serious Damon, don’t come near me!” Elena cries, verging on the edge of hysterics. “Agh!”

Elena clutches her head, feeling the same pain bloom within her skull that Damon does.

Through the pain, Damon is conflicted, not wanting to take advantage of her, but also unwilling to see her in pain.

For a brief moment, Damon debates calling April, begging her to figure out how to break the spell before the two of them spontaneously combust.

But Damon decides there’s not enough time for her to get back to them, and Damon won’t- _can’t_ risk Elena’s life like that.

She still holds the stake out in front of her, but cries out again when another wave of pain washes over her.

At that, Damon pushes himself to act. He speeds forward to Elena.

Right into her stake. It pierces his chest, but only just, and not even close to his heart. The pain is completely overshadowed by the relief he feels at finally closing the distance between them.

Elena gasps at his speed, letting go of the stake in her surprise, which allows Damon to pull it out of him easy and toss it as far as he can from them.

Her hands come up to push him away, but the moment they make contact with his chest, Damon’s pain instantly vanishes, being replaced with a much more pleasurable sensation.

Elena must feel it too, because she practically melts into him.

“Is… is this enough?” Elena murmurs against his chest.

Damon lets his hands come up to touch her, stroking down her back. The spell magnifies his sensitivity to touching her, and he nearly gasps at the pleasure it gives.

“I highly doubt it,” Damon tries to sound lighthearted, but his voice comes out breathy and intense. “Just let this happen, Elena. You could die if you don’t.”

“You don’t know that,” she says quietly, as if even she knows it’s true.

“I do,” Damon pushes. “Let me take care of you, please.”

(Damon hates how needy he sounds, how desperate.) 

“I don’t think I can stop myself, Elena,” Damon warns her. “I can’t let you stop me.”

Elena shakes her head, but he can tell her resolve is crumbling with the pressure that builds inside both of them, pushing them to act on their desires. “I can’t- I don’t want- “

But even as she denies him, he feels her wrap tighter around him, the spell pulling her desire from her unwillingly.

“Please, don’t let me do this,” Elena begs him.

“We have to, I’m sorry. We have to,” Damon says, burying his apologies in her hair.

Elena pulls herself away marginally, looking up at him with her doe eyes, pleading with him to stop this. It’s almost enough for Damon to try to put an end to it and call April anyways for the chance that they’ll survive.

(But really, it’s not even close. Damon won’t be able to stop himself from taking what he wants from her. What the spell makes him need from her.)

The pleading in Elena’s eyes give way to anger. Damon prepares for him to hit her, prepares to catch her fists. It doesn’t matter, it wouldn’t stop him. Even if he has to tie her up, he will have her tonight.

But Elena surprises Damon, thrusting her face towards him, pulling him down to her.

Their lips crash together, and it’s the sweetest sensation Damon has ever felt in his life. It’s hot and needy and urgent.

Elena doesn’t hold anything back. She presses her entire body against him, and he pulls her even tighter. His hands squeeze her waist, her hips, her ass – anything he can grasp to hold her tighter against him.

Damon lets his hunger take over, putting every bit of his want into the kiss. Everything he’s held back from her since she pushed him away. He kisses her like he’s trying to prove to her how much he wants her.

How much he _owns_ her.

She’s his, only his. Damon remembers her flirting with man-witch earlier, and it only pushes him to kiss her harder, deeper. Pushes him to stake his claim by showing her how much she belongs to him.

“Fuck – Elena, you feel so good. Let me just, please, I just need to be inside you,” Damon gasps against her.

Damon tries to look into her eyes, gage her reaction. But she squeezes her eyes shut and turns away from him. He’s angered for a moment, before he watches her walk to the bed as she strips her shirt off first, then her jeans.

Elena rips her clothes off without fanfare, just needing to be rid of them as quickly as possible. But to Damon, it’s the sexiest strip show he’s ever seen.

He towers over her as he opens his belt, then discards his own jeans. Elena looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, leaning back and stretching out on the bed.

Damon kneels on the bed, then bends down, running his hand up her leg from ankle to thigh.

If Elena has anymore reservations, they don’t show through her lustful expression. She lets her legs fall open as he crawls up between him.

Damon kisses her thigh, running his lips up the smooth skin there up to her panties. He strokes her over them. And she’s already wet. He can feel it, and the warmth there draws him in.

“God, Damon, just- I need-“ Elena’s voice comes out in breathy bursts. She throws her head back onto the pillow and arches up, pushing herself into him.

Damon wants to take this slow, wants to work her open with his tongue until she’s crying out in pleasure. Until she comes over and over and she’s writhing under his mouth and fingers.

Wants to not stop until she admits that she’s his, that she belongs only to him.

(Until she promises never to leave him.)

But he can’t wait for her any more. Needs to take what’s _his_.

So Damon hooks his fingers under her underwear and _rips_ through them, shredding the only obstacle between them left. His own underwear is on the floor in the blink of an eye, aided by his vampiric speed.

Damon needs to be inside her, needs to _break_ her open with his cock. But he needs to make sure Elena enjoys this. Needs to prove to her he can make her feel better than anyone ever has, anyone ever _will._

He sinks two fingers into her at once, and they slide easily with how wet she already is. Her walls tighten around his fingers at the sudden intrusion, and he silences her cry with another deep kiss.

Elena’s cry turns to a moan quickly, though, with him working her open easily beneath him.

“Elena, let me make you feel good,” Damon says lowly, wanting to hear her voice.

“Fuck, Damon,” she responds, her hands coming up to grasp his shoulders as he presses his thumb onto her clit, stroking relentlessly.

“No,” Damon insists. “I need you to say it. Tell me you want this.”

Elena thrashes her head to the side and bites her lip, still trying to fight the effects of the spell.

Frustrated, Damon stills his motions inside her. Waits for her to speak.

“Fuck, just…” Elena fights still, not wanting to say the words.

Damon lines up the head of his cock with her entrance, putting only a slight pressure on her. Enough to spark pleasure, but nowhere near enough to satisfy.

“I want you to fuck me, Damon,” she finally relents.

Satisfied, and happy enough to break into a grin, he sinks into her in one fluid motion.

The pleasure is unlike anything Damon has ever felt. Elena’s walls grip him, and she’s warm and wet and so very _tight_. He’s so caught off guard by the feeling of it that he has to wait for the stars to clear his vision before he can move.

But they do, and then he’s moving inside her, and they moan in unison. Damon presses his forehead against her and sets an unforgiving pace, snapping his hips into hers. He focuses all his effort and attention to pumping inside her. He pounds furiously, needing to be as close to her as possible, so caught by the pleasure as he races towards his release.

Damon only snaps out of it when he hears Elena cry out beneath him, more of a whine than a moan. Her eyes are clenched together, and her nails dig into his back.

He stops immediately, realizing it was too much for her.

“Elena, open your eyes,” Damon commands roughly. “Look at me.”

Her deep brown eyes connect with his, and it’s even more intense now as he moves slowly, deeply within her.

Elena’s gasps are only for her pleasure now. The friction between them building towards both of their peaks. Her little breaths drive him insane with need, and he realizes the hunger he feels isn’t quite satisfied with him inside of her.

“Let me bite you,” Damon begs her. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”

Elena squeezes her eyes shut again, though, shaking her head.

Damon bends his head down to her neck, letting his fangs elongated. The blood pumping through her veins sings to him.

“Say it, tell me you want me to drink from you,” Damon demands.

“I-“ Elena cuts her voice off again, biting her lip.

Damon finds this absolutely unacceptable, and focuses his attention on circling her clit with his thumb. Her keening whine is _everything_.

“Bite me, Damon!” Elena finally cries out.

The _satisfaction_ courses through him, but he holds out for one more thing, a last desperate request.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands.

Elena looks up at him, eyes ablaze with fury. He pounds even harder, trying to force the words out of her. But she stubbornly remains silent.

The anger he feels at her refusal pushes him harder into her, and he finally succumbs to his hunger, sinking his fangs into her neck as he pounds into her.

The sweet liquid pours into his mouth and down his throat. He sucks greedily at it, pulling hard from her veins.

The pleasure courses through him, and he feels her clench around him as his bite pulls her orgasm out of her. Her walls clamp down hard around him, spasming with her pleasure. It sends him over the edge, pumping his cum into her.

The weight of the spell immediately dissipates, Damon can feel the absence of it. He knows when Elena feels it too, since she immediately tenses underneath him.

“Elena?” Damon says uncertainly. She refuses to look at him.

“Get off of me,” Elena says so quietly he would’ve missed it without his enhanced hearing.

Damon expects it, but it pains him nonetheless. Regardless, he moves off of her. Watches her launch herself off the bed and run to the bathroom. Hears the lock _snick_ into place.

Damon buries his head in his hands for only a moment, feeling another weight settle onto him.

Despair.

(She didn’t want it. Any of it.)

Before his thoughts can drive him to insanity, he goes to the bathroom door. Pounds on it.

“Elena?” he calls to her. “Open the door. Let me in.”

In a hoarse voice, she responds “Why bother, when you can just knock it down yourself?”

Damon quiets then, “I don’t want to force myself in there. I want you to let me in.”

Just as he always want her to let him in, to say yes and want him back.

“Please, Elena,” he begs through the door. He listens to her muffled cries behind the door. He imagines she’s horrified by what she just did, what she asked him to do.

Damon sighs, presses his forehead against the door, and quietly asks “At least let me heal you.”

Soft footsteps, then the door unlocks.

Elena looks wrecked. Her neck is a mess, and her face is splotchy from crying. Damon tamps down the urge to brush her hair away from her face.

Instead, he bites and offers her his wrist, waiting for her to take it this time rather than forcing it on her.

Gingerly, she takes the wrist and brings it to her lips.

This yes means so much to him, more than what they just did together.

She barely takes any blood before pushing his wrist away, but it’s enough to cause the wound on her neck to start knitting itself back together.

They share a moment, just looking at each other, processing.

“It was only the spell,” Elena says. Damon can’t tell if the hint of dishonesty in her voice is only his imagination, his hope.

Damon nods, more for her sake than anything. He knows it kills her that she had asked him for it all. Even under the influence of the spell.

Damon feels torn. Now she knows how good he can make her feel still, he wants her to accept it even more. But she wasn’t willing, not truly.

And she ended up being forced into it anyways....thankfully not by Damon, but he imagines Elena doesn’t feel the same way. Imagines it still hurts as much, not having any control of her body.

“I would’ve stopped if I could,” he tells her.

But they both know it’s a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on that...spicy cliffhanger. Please comment and let me know what you think! Comments fuel me, they are my muses.


	5. Denial and Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! You know how it is with quarantine, everything takes twice as long as you want it to. It’s also suuuper unedited, so I may make some changes later. Either way, hope you’re all doing well! Also this is kind of a weirdly fluffy chapter, but screw it. I think we could all use a bit of fluff.

Damon at least lets Elena shower off before dragging her out to the woods. Elena is grateful for that, at least. Having the evidence, the last bits of the spell that remain, wash down the drain helps Elena recenter herself. Put it out of her head for now.

(Tries not to look as the water tinges pink from the blood running off of her neck.)

As she leaves the bathroom, toweling off her wet hair, she catches the tail end of a Damon’s conversation with someone on the phone.

“-in the woods? Can you be anymore specific?” Damon says, seemingly frustrated.

He pauses as he waits for a reply.

“Well keep looking. I’ll go out with Elena to look for anything we missed, if you could drop that spell keeping her in her room. Call me if you find anything.” Damon ends the call. “Looks like we’re going on a scavenger hunt.”

“We?” Elena asks. “Can’t you just drop me off with April?” she practically begs him.

She doesn’t want to be near him right now to deal with the fallout of the spell.

Damon shakes his head with a finality, shrugs on his jacket and pulls her outside towards his car.

Elena, realizing she won’t be able to sway him, walks faster, pulling herself away from his hand at her waist.

Can’t stand the warmth she felt from it. The closeness of him to her.

Thankfully in the car, Damon doesn’t speak. Unfortunately, though, this leaves Elena to her thoughts.

The memories come rushing back to her, unable to be pushed down any longer in the silence and stillness.

The confusion she had felt when Ella left without any seeming effects of a spell taking hold.

Then the hunger, overwhelming her. A fire burning through her body. She wanted, no needed Damon.

And then the pain she felt at his distance, though she somehow knew she was coming closer to her every moment.

Elena recalls the joy she felt, almost a satisfaction at his arrival. Without the pain of distance, though, she was able to regain her rationality, her fight.

Elena almost wants to laugh at how she had threatened Damon then, with a tiny piece of wood. It had done nothing to dissuade him. Their need for each other was too great, and he’d risked impaling himself just to close the distance between them.

Elena had wanted to push back, wanted to flee, but then she was in his arms and everything felt so right.

She hadn’t had a choice, Elena tells herself. Damon wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so Elena had told him yes to gain what little control over the situation she could.

That was all.

Everything that followed was just the effects of the spell. The pleasure, the wanting Damon. Wanting him to _bite_ her. The trust she had put in him to make the pain go away, turn it into something much more enjoyable. That wasn’t Elena, she would never have done that.

She wouldn’t have without the spell. And now that it was gone, she never would again.

But Elena can’t help but think of how Damon had _looked_ at her when she said yes. When she kept on saying yes to him. She had felt the joy he had written all over his face. She understood it. The happiness Damon felt of being wanted, of being accepted by her – vampire parts and all.

Damon had so badly wanted her yes, he’d let the spell run its course. He hadn’t even tried to stop it. The thought burns Elena. Damon promised he wouldn’t touch her without her consent, but some spell comes along and takes that from her. Well, Elena would make sure he would never get it again.

(She ignores the ache in her chest thinking of how he would look when she rejects him next time.)

They arrive at the entrance to a hiking trail in the woods near the bar. The sun has long since set, but there’s a fair bit of moonlight, enough that they won’t have to carry a flashlight to see the ground in front of them.

Elena hangs back at the car when Damon starts walking towards the trail. He stops when he realizes she isn’t following him.

“Coming?” he says, gesturing towards the path.

“I don’t see why I can’t stay here while you go traipsing around in the woods. Last time I did that, I broke my ankle!” she tries to justify.

Damon just rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to break your ankle when you’re with me.”

He speeds towards her in an instant, appearing just a half a foot away and causing her to jump back into the car. Damon just smirks at her. “Vamp speed, remember? You’ll be fine.”

“Why are we even here anyways?” Elena asks, frowning at the dark entrance to the woods.

“April says there’s probably an altar out here near where we found the body. Said something about storing energy at an altar nearby where she drained the witch of her energy. She’s still looking through her books for a better idea of where it would be, but I figure we’ll find it faster if we just go out and look for it.”

“Well why can’t I look through books with her?” Elena tries again.

“Drop it, Elena,” Damon says more firmly, starting to look angry.

“I’m not taking orders, Damon,” Elena snaps, frustrated. “Especially not after you ra-“

“Don’t!” Damon cuts her off, dropping his head to her level and silencing her with his burning expression. “If you’re not going to take responsibility for what we just did, then you can’t expect me to either.”

“Hell if I can’t,” Elena bites, standing straighter and facing him head on. “We both know that you would’ve kept going even if I’d begged you to stop. Even without the spell, you’d have eventually gotten tired of waiting. Don’t try denying it, Damon.”

Elena scowls at him as he narrows his eyes at her, daring her to finish her statement.

“You’d have just tied me up and raped me eventually because there is no way in hell I will _ever_ say yes to you without some fucked up _spell_.”

Elena breathes heavily, her anger finally pouring out of her, finally able to voice her rage at what Damon did to her.

Though Damon looks just as infuriated as she is, he takes a long look at her and cools.

“You can try to pretend all you want, Elena,” he murmurs to her in a low, rough voice. (His stupid seductive voice, she realizes, that he only uses when he’s trying to get in her pants.) “But that spell wasn’t the only reason you said yes to me, I know it.”

Damon brings his arms up on either side of her to cage her against the car. Elena presses herself as far away from him as she can, but he leans into her further, not letting her move an inch away from him.

“And we both know,” Damon continues, his voice thick with emotion. “You feel something for me. You can lie to me, but you can’t keep lying to yourself.”

Elena wishes the emotion she felt from Damon was anger. Anger she could fight back against. But this? There’s something in Damon’s voice that is so deep that it bores into her and reminds her of the feelings she keeps trying to push away. Elena hears the conviction in Damon’s voice, sees it in his eyes. He’s pinned her down, can see right through her anger to the emotions that are stirring deep inside her.

Damon is trying to draw out her care for him, trying to convince her that she wants him, too. But she won’t let him. Elena needs her freedom too much to let herself feel freely for Damon.

If she did feel for him, it would only get in the way of her trying to leave him. She can’t sacrifice her freedom, her _life_ for Damon’s feelings.

“You’re delusional,” Elena says, instead of all the things Damon wants to hear from her. Let him think he’s so obsessed with her that he’s just seeing things that aren’t there.

Damon’s face falls, just a fraction, at her denial. But his determination remains.

“You don’t mean that,” Damon presses her, but Elena can hear a fraction of despair creep into his tone. He pulls himself away from her, as if she’d burned him, withdrawing from her cutting words.

“I do.” Elena puts as much anger as she can muster into her words, pushing her feelings away and willing the words to ring true in Damon’s ears. She can’t let him _hope. “_ You’ve tricked yourself into thinking I actually care for you when all I want is to get as far from you as possible. So just take me back to April and go on your little witch hunt by yourself.”

Damon runs a hand through his hair, getting more agitated. He looks at her, straining to hear the lie in her voice, but only becoming angrier as he can’t pick it out. Instead of storming off, though, he grabs her shoulders hard.

(Maybe Elena shouldn’t be trying to piss off the psychotic vampire.)

“You’re staying with _me_ and that’s _final_. You’re not leaving my side unless _I_ say so, got it?” Damon growls out at her.

“No,” Elena bites back. “You can just leave me with _April_ , remember? Have her put her little spell on me to keep me nice and _locked up!”_

“It isn’t safe!” Damon says, raising his voice.

“Why not?!” Elena nearly shouts back at him.

Damon let’s her go and storms away from her, wordlessly shouting into the night in anger.

“Why, Damon!” Elena shouts at his back.

Damon whips around, looking like a madman possessed. “Because you’re my weakness!” he yells.

Elena falls quiet, retort failing her and falling away.

‘You’re my weakness,” he says, softer then, and turns away from her. “And Ella knows it, and she’s going to hurt you to get to me and I _can’t-‘_

Damon cuts off, as if choked by emotions Elena doesn’t understand.

(Doesn’t want to understand.)

“I can’t let that happen. So you’re staying with me from now on.”

Elena is stunned, words failing her. Her. Damon’s weakness. She almost wants to laugh. Earlier she had wanted to know every single detail about vampires so she could figure out what his weakness was. Use it against him so she could flee safely.

How could she use herself as Damon’s weakness, though?

“Let’s get moving. We’ve got an alter to find so we can get out of this god-forsaken town.”

Elena absently begins to follow Damon through the barely-lit woods. They walk in silence after their yelling match, leaving Elena to her thoughts.

Could she use herself as Damon’s weakness? Was there some way she could use that to her advantage?

Damon couldn’t live with her death, he’d made that abundantly clear for her. And she couldn’t die knowing the bloodbath she’d leave in her wake. She’d already resolved herself to living, either way.

Stefan was the answer, she’d already decided. Elena thinks that if she could just get the two brothers back together, it might be enough for Damon to let her go. The issue was that Stefan came very close to killing her last time, which would not bode well in getting Damon to let her go near him again.

If only Elena could convince Damon that unless he tried to reconnect with Stefan, Elena’s life would be in danger.

She thinks as she stumbles through the dark woods after Damon. Though he walks ahead of her, he never strays more than a footfall’s length away from her. Elena doesn’t see a fallen branch in her path as she’s lost in her thoughts, and she nearly trips and lands flat on her face.

Damon catches her, though, as he has so many times before. The fall sets her heart pumping fast, and the butterflies in her stomach only increase with feeling how gently he holds her, how intensely he stares at her.

Elena hopes the darkness hides her flush. She knows, though, it can’t hide the way her heart pounds to Damon’s ears.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to get away from him. She rights herself in his arms and pulls herself away from him.

These feelings keep coming. Elena wants to blame them on Damon, that she’s just feeling how deeply he cares for her and is reflecting that back onto him. But she knows it’s more than that, and she’s having trouble pushing them down every time they come up.

Elena’s so lost in her own head that she nearly misses hearing Damon hit the forest floor.

Her eyes shoot open, and she sees Damon kneeling on the ground, clutching his head in agony. His expression, though difficult to see, is one of pure anguish. Elena nearly falls to her own knees to help Damon somehow. She feels a strong urge to wrap him in her arms until she can figure out how to help him.

But suddenly she realizes herself, and her situation. By some stroke of luck, Damon is incapacitation by some unseen force. And Elena? She’s fine. She can _run_.

Elena tears off into the night, heading back the direction she _thinks_ they came in. Dammit, why wasn’t she paying attention to their path? Why did she get so lost in her own head?

Elena runs as fast as she can, trying to get back to the road. She pushes herself as hard as she can. Blood rushes through her ears, nearly drowning out every other sound.

Except one. Distantly, she can hear Damon howling her name from somewhere behind her.

“ELENA!” she hears him roar. Either he’s yelling through the pain, or whatever was affecting him had stopped. Either way, Elena knows she’ll soon have an angry vampire hot on her heels.

She pushes herself even harder, and her lungs burn from the effort. If she can just get to the road, then she can maybe catch a lift with some kind stranger, and get herself even farther away from Damon. Freedom is so close she can taste it. Elena can see a clearing up ahead, and she thinks it’s the parking lot they arrived at, just off of the main road. With it, her future comes back into view. She can get her life back again.

Elena clears the final row of trees, but no road appears in front of her. Instead, she finds herself in a small clearing in the woods, filled with tiny stones jutting up at random places, overgrown with roots and vines.

Elena’s hope falls, her future falling away with it. She was so close, but she had to stupidly run in the exact wrong direction, and seemed to only put herself further into the woods.

“I will find you, Elena!” Damon’s voice calls out to her distantly.

Her heart sinks, knowing it will only be a matter of seconds before Damon finds her again. Defeated, she backs herself onto the nearest tree, and leans against it, breathing hard and exhausted from her sprint. She wearily takes in the strange stones in front of her, trying to make herself small as she listens to Damon’s infuriated calls for her.

Too soon, Damon stands in front of her, his eyes piercing hers. Elena thinks she can make out how blue they are, even in the darkness.

“Don’t move,” he says harshly, and her body locks in place.

The feeling is familiar, and though she panics remembering how Stefan used the same trick on her – compulsion, she thinks – she can’t move an inch. Elena can only watch as Damon paces back and forth in front of her, overwrought with anger.

“Why did you _run_? You could’ve gotten _killed_ by either this mystery witch or this Ella bitch!” Damon hisses out in front of her, incredulous.

Elena finds she can speak even without being able to leave her spot. “I’d rather take my chances with them than give up my _freedom_ , Damon. You can’t blame me for trying.”

Damon grabs her face. “I thought we were past this. Just let me take care of you. Let me keep you safe,” he begs her.

“I’d rather die than give up on trying to leave you!” Elena yells, her earlier anger returning.

“Yeah, and look where it always gets you,” Damon snarls. “You never seem to be able to leave, do you? As hard as you _seem_ to try, Elena, fate just keeps pushing you back to _me!_ ”

“Well _fate_ won’t always work, Damon!” Elena says, angrily. “One day, luck will be on _my_ side, and you won’t _ever_ see me again!”

Damon’s eyes flare with rage, but he stops in his train of thought before he replies. Instead, he pauses, and looks her over snidely. “Maybe you’re right, but maybe it isn’t fate,” Damon muses coldly. “Maybe you don’t really want to leave.”

Elena struggles inside her body to lash out at him, hit him. But all she can manage is a wordless shout in anger. “You wish. Let me go, and I’ll show you what I really _want,_ Damon. I’ll pound it into that thick head of yours!”

Damon lets out a humorless laugh at her paltry threat, no doubt imagining how little damage she could actually do to him, given the chance. He turns from her, instead, stalking away from her.

“Don’t walk away from me, Damon! Let me out of this stupid compulsion!” Elena yells after him.

Damon seems to be trying to collect himself, though, ignoring her calls. But after a minute, he bends down at one of the little stones, examining it more. He pulls his phone out and waits for the other end to pick up.

“You’re just going to leave me here, then?” Elena cries out. If he ever let’s her go, she’s never speaking to him again. Her silence before had annoyed him well enough, and it’s the only thing she can do to hurt him.

“What’s an overgrown cemetery doing out in the middle of the woods?” Damon asks. Before she can respond how the hell would she know, Elena realizes he’s speaking to his phone.

“Woah, April, slow down. What’s going on?”

Elena watches Damon stand and turn to her with a concerned expression, brow furrowed. She gives him a questioning look, but he stays quiet as he listens to April on the other end.

“I’ll head there now and meet you there. Don’t go in until I get there, though. Don’t be stupid.” Damon says, in what Elena assumes is supposed to sound comforting.

“Are you going to let me go now?” Elena says, acid still in her voice.

“Are you going to try to run again?” Damon bites back.

“I’m not going to promise I won’t,” Elena says honestly. “What did April want?” she asks, unable to contain her curiosity.

“Someone in the coven apparently knows something, and wants April to come to the bar to tell her. Sounds suspicious, so we’re going to meet her for backup.”

“There’s no we, Damon. I’m an unwilling participant in this whole thing, remember?”

“Yes,” Damon says, anger flaring up again. “You keep reminding me. Now you can come with me willingly or I can _make_ you more cooperative.”

Elena scowls at him and holds her response. As much as she wants to have control over her own body, she hates that she has to keep saying yes to him. It’s giving him the wrong idea, she knows. Making Damon think there’s something between them, when there definitely _isn’t_.

There isn’t.

(Liar.)

“I’ll come with you,” Elena says slowly, reluctantly. “But you use compulsion on me again and I am never speaking to you again.”

“Like you could stop yourself,” Damon says, smirking. He’s already in a better mood with her agreement with him. It makes Elena feel more relaxed, too, used to their easy banter. (Stop, don’t get caught up in his emotions.)

His eyes bore into hers for just a moment before she feels her muscles relax, though sore from being tensed for so long.

Before Elena can move away from Damon, though, he backs her into the tree behind her, crowding her and holding her gaze. Nervous, and heart stuttering at his proximity, she crosses her arms in front of her to create a barrier between them. To remind herself to not let him get too close to her, physically at least.

(Though she knows he’s already too close. He’s under her _skin_ already.)

“I wouldn’t, anyways,” Damon says softly. “Not if I didn’t have to. I want this to be real.”

Elena’s breathing quickens as his words pour into her and cause her chest to ache. He’s too close, surrounding her and getting in her head.

Damon’s head falls just a fraction lower, bringing their lips only inches away. He searches her eyes for an answer she can’t give him. Elena _can’t_ say yes to him, she knows. Doing so would change everything. It would change her, and it could cost her her freedom.

But he’s gotten to her, she can’t deny it. Elena knows Damon can make her feel good. And she almost _wants_ him to kiss her, with how little she has to herself. The feelings his gives her, the pleasure she knows she’d feel just from a single kiss would send sparks shooting through her body, and it might just be enough to make the rest of the world, the rest of her issues, melt away for just a little while.

So when he leans in even closer, it’s all she can manage just to turn her head to the side. Her body hums from their near kiss, and she aches for his touch. But to give into it, to show him how much she wants him, it would only doom her further.

Damon seems as disappointed as she feels, breathing hard in front of her. Elena wonders if she’s angered him, and what the consequences might be.

His hands come up to her face, takes her chin and tugs it until she’s looking at him. Damon’s pupils are blown wide, and he looks wild after his chase through the woods, hair tousled.

For a moment, Elena thinks he’s decided he’s going to kiss her anyways, with or without her consent.

(She almost wants him to, just so she can get the feelings she craves from him without giving him the satisfaction of her consent. So she can say later that she didn’t want it, and he’d never have her willingly. So she wouldn’t lose herself in him.)

But Damon only gives her a hard, long look, before placing a firm, quick kiss to her forehead, and stalking off alone.

Elena is shocked that she doesn’t follow him until he calls back to her.

“If you don’t move now, I’m coming back and carrying you,” he yells behind him.

That sets Elena off, stumbling after him.

What the hell does that kiss mean?

And why the hell does it feel like Elena still lost that battle?

It doesn’t take them long to reach the trailhead again with Damon’s supernatural senses guiding them, and it’s only a short drive back to The Witch’s Brew, so Elena doesn’t get time to think it over. Her thoughts are moving slowly after the exhaustion of the day’s events finally catches up to her. She nearly dozes off in the car, but before she slips into sleep, Damon parks and pulls her door open.

Elena guesses he’s still not letting her leave his side, and groans as she stands up. But she follows him towards the bar anyways.

In her sluggishness, Elena barely has time to register Damon’s next words.

“Do you smell gas?”

Then the world is turning on its side, and Elena’s head is spinning. Gravity no longer holds her. Instead, it’s Damon’s arms around her that anchor her.

The heat of the explosion is enough to make her sweat in the chilly dead of night.

The sound is so loud that she can’t hear anything else but ringing.

But the worst part is the shaking all around her, as if there were an earthquake tearing through the ground, trying to swallow her whole.

The thought sends Elena into a panic, so she bures her face in Damon’s chest where he’s positioned himself above her, between her and the explosion that still rocks the world.

Damon smells like he always does, of leather and pine, and Elena tries to focus on that smell and not the smell of heat and fire and smoke. She twists his hands into his soft t-shirt.

In response, Damon presses his body even closer to hers, wrapping her tightly to cover as much of her body as he can with his.

Time passes, Elena thinks. But all she knows is that between her and the fiery blasts, Damon is shielding her and holding her as tightly as he can.

And she feels safe.

Eventually the ringing in her ears quiets enough so she can her the pitter patter of rain around her start. Elena peeks out from underneath Damon, but sees no rain. Instead, chunks of the building are raining down around them, from golf-ball sized, to a piece as big as her head.

In the bright glow of the fire still raging, Elena notices the flames at the other end of the building sputter and die for a moment, and a figure walks through the broken barrier. The light is too bright, though, and Elena is too disoriented to make out any features as the figure walks away.

“Did you see them, Damon?” Elena whispers.

Damon pulls his head up to look at her, and Elena can see worry and fear in his eyes, almost like pain. “See who?” he says, as he shifts his weight so he can brush her cheek with his hand.

Elena blushes, though she’s sure her face was already red from the heat, so she hopes Damon doesn’t notice her reaction to his tender touch. (Stop letting him affect you.)

(The voice in her head is growing fainter, though.)

“There was a person walking out of the bar,” Elena gestures with her chin. But Damon doesn’t turn to look, just staring at her.

“You were probably just seeing things. There’s no way anyone could’ve survived that blast,” Damon says softly. “You’re exhausted, Elena.”

Elena frowns, though. She’s sure she saw someone.

“Are you hurt?” Damon asks. “Did anything hit you?”

“I don’t think so, but I can’t very well check with you smothering me,” Elena says, annoyed. “Can you get off now?”

Damon offers her a pained look in response, which she mistook for worry earlier, she realizes.

They weren’t lucky enough to escape the falling debris. It had hit them.

Well, had hit Damon as he had covered Elena’s body with his own.

Panic nearly floods Elena as she struggles to get out from under Damon’s heavy body, instinctually worried about him. She gasps when she manages to pull herself away, seeing large chunks of debris sticking out of Damon’s back.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Elena starts hyperventilating. How was Damon even alive right now?

“Elena, sweetie, you need to calm down,” Damon says from where he still lies on his stomach, only able to turn his head towards her. “Vampire, remember? I’ll be fine once I heal.”

Elena nods, and tries to slow her breathing. But a normal person would’ve bled out by now with all the wounds Damon had sustained while saving _her_.

This was her fault. Damon was hurt because of her. Because he protected her. He would’ve died if he wasn’t already dead, would’ve just thrown his life away to save hers.

Elena holds her breath, worried if she let it out, it would come out as a sob. She _hates_ when anyone goes out of their way for her, much less puts themselves in harms way. Elena remembers when Jeremy, only ten, had put himself between her and a dog that had gotten off its leash. Elena still feels stabs of guilt when she sees the faint scar on his forearm where Jeremy had gotten bitten while trying to protect her.

How could she deal with someone sacrificing their _life_ for her?

“Elena, stop, come back to me,” Damon calls to her from where she had curled up, head between her knees. “I’m fine, see?”

“You’re _not_ ,” Elena croaks out, throat dry and stuck with tears that have yet to fall.

“I _will_ be,” Damon amends, with a slight tinge of annoyance. “Just get these things out of my back and I’ll heal up right away.”

(Her dad is telling her at the dinner table about a stab-victim he’d treated that day at the hospital. _Don’t pull out the knife, Elena,_ he says. _It’ll cause them to bleed out faster._ )

Elena shakes her head. “That’ll make it worse! You’ll bleed out!”

“I won’t, I’ll heal before I lose too much blood,” Damon says, definitely annoyed now. “You can do it, just pull them out hard and fast, like ripping off a band-aid.”

Elena unfolds herself a bit to look at Damon. He stares at her with waning patience. “A band-aid?” Elena says, voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes,” Damon says. “Just grab, and pull, _fast_.”

Elena nods slowly, and kneels over Damon. She decides to start with a small piece of metal embedded between his shoulder and spine. It feels warm in her hand, smooth. She finds a decent grip on it where she’s pretty sure she won’t cut herself and holds on tightly.

She pulls, and it comes loose with a wet sound. Damon was right, though, his back is already knitting itself back together underneath his shirt.

The next few pieces go easier then, and with them out, her breath comes easier. Finally, Damon is able to sit up in front of her, groaning and stretching as he heals.

Elena only realizes how close she is to him when he looks up at her, and all she can see are his blue eyes.

“See?” Damon says, smirking. “Right as rain.”

Elena nods slowly, and gives Damon a small smile. She realizes then the lightness she feels is due to relief.

The feelings behind that relief hit her like a train, nearly knocking the breath out of her.

Elena can’t tell her self she doesn’t care about Damon anymore. Denying it only feels like lying. She actually cares what happens to him.

April’s arrival breaks Elena out of her reverie, and Elena stands to put some distance between her and Damon.

Faintly, she can hear them discussing the bar, the explosion, what it all means. But it seems so far away to Elena now.

She knows now why she feels like she lost to Damon.

Her freedom, that she so desperately sought after, is the furthest away from her she’s ever felt. Elena knows now that her leaving Damon would devastate him in a way she doesn’t think he would recover from. These new feelings, her caring, wanting to see Damon happy –

It would make it impossible for her to leave him when she knows what it would do to him.

Damon’s earlier kiss, a simple, sweet peck on the forhead, it was the final nail in the coffin. Damon is willing to keep giving without expecting anything from her. Because his kiss was only to show her how he feels without taking anything she wouldn’t give him willingly. And that’s so much worse, because she realizes he’s willing to wait her out. He’ll do anything for her just for the hope of her one day returning his feelings. And she realizes she might already –

Not love –

But she does feel for him.

She cares about him.

And she’s fucked either way.

“Elena? Did you?” April asks her.

“Did I what?” Elena asks, startled out of her thoughts.

“Did you really see someone walking out from the fire?”

“Oh, yes, I did. Damon didn’t believe me,” Elena scowls at him.

“Well that’s probably our rogue,” April says. “I’ll call the rest of the coven and try to comb the wreckage for any evidence. You two should head back, I got it covered from here.”

Elena nods, then looks at Damon from the corner of her eye. “Is he really okay?” she asks April.

Damon answers instead. “I’d heal more quickly if I had a quick blood donation. Any volunteers?”

Even in his injured state, Damon has enough strength to saunter up to Elena. Brushes her hair away from her neck and bends his head down.

Elena scoffs, and smacks Damon’s arm. “You’re not drinking from me.”

“Fine,” Damon says, grinning mischeviously. “I’ll just head to the nearest sorority house and pick out a quick snack.”

“Damon!” Elena gasps, incredulous, “Don’t!”

He only smirks and waggles his eyebrows at her. “What, jealous? Wish it was you?”

Elena blushes at this, remembering how it felt to have him drink from her. The pure ecstasy. But that’s not why she objected.

“No, I don’t!” Elena has enough sense to balk at the unconvinced look Damon gives her. “But I’d rather you feed off me than some other poor girl who doesn’t deserve it.”

This sobers Damon. He gives her a heavy look. “What, and you do deserve it?”

“I’m not saying that,” Elena disagrees. “It’s just... I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. You’re already hurting me, what’s a little more?”

Damon frowns more deeply. “I wouldn’t make it hurt, you know that.”

Elena shivers. She does know that. “That’s not what would hurt.”

Her consent would hurt. Damon seems to catch her drift, so he lets it go.

“Stealing some blood bags from the hospital it is, then.”

Elena seems weighted as she gets ready for bed in their hotel room, Damon notices. Her feet drag, and her movements are slow. Hell, her eyes are already drifting shut and she’s still brushing her teeth.

She must be exhausted, Damon thinks. He’d watched her struggle with her emotions and her feelings for him all day. Damon knows she’s confused, and he wants her to realize what they could be. He’s almost bouncing on his heels waiting for a breakthrough, for her to give in to him.

Damon also realizes she’s exhausted and needs a break. She’s obviously dead under her feet.

So, Damon spends an hour before joining Elena for sleep planning their day tomorrow. April had assured him that the entire coven would be together cleaning up the debris tomorrow. It would be unlikely another attack would occur with them all together. April had highly recommended Damon let Elena have a day off.

Damon would do one better.

Elena just wants to sleep the entire day, but it’s very hard to ignore a vampire when he wants to be persistent. Damon has her put on some comfortable summer clothes, and after packing a few things himself, drags Elena out to his car in the early morning yet again.

Elena can only hope there isn’t _another_ coven of witches that needs their help.

Thankfully, she does get some sleep in the car ride, so that when they arrive she does feel more rested.

When she realizes where Damon has spirited her away to, she’s even more grateful she got the extra rest.

The sweeping arcs of roller coaster cars she can spot from the parking lot, the sound of people laughing, the music drifting towards her from a nearby speaker.

“We’re…going to an amusement park?” Elena says, turning to Damon, worried this is just some elaborate joke.

Damon just grins, though, and circles the car to close the distance between them.

“I figure you could use a break, a day of fun,” he says casually.

“But… aren’t you worried about…” Elena trails off, nervous he’ll take her back if she reminds him she isn’t a willing companion.

But Damon only rolls his eyes goodheartedly. “Same rules apply – you try and start anything and there will be consequences. Or I could just compel you to be good.”

Elena swallows, nervous. As excited as she is to just have a break and enjoy herself for a day, if she were to pass up this chance to try to escape, could she live with herself?

“I’d really prefer not to, though,” Damon says, frowning, leaning towards her. “Are you going to be difficult?”

Elena mulls it over for a moment, frowning.

“Just, for one day, forget everything,” Damon pleads softly. “Let me treat you to a day of fun. One day, that’s all I ask. You can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

“One day?” Elena says quietly. Damon nods, earnestly.

Seeing the hope in his eyes, Elena knows her decision. Knowing the devastation she’d bring to Damon if she successfully managed to leave him, Elena isn’t sure she could even try to escape anymore. Damon won’t give her the chance, anyways, so Elena thinks it’s better to just relax and pretend things are normal between them. Just two people having fun at an amusement park.

“ _One_ day,” Elena asserts. Tomorrow she’ll figure out how to get her freedom back. Today, she needed a break.

(If Elena’s heart skips a beat at Damon’s honest smile, he doesn’t seem to notice.)

(Hopefully.)

Being in such a large group of people makes Elena nervous at first. It’s been so long since she’s felt so much possibility around her. But she forces herself to let go of the idea of calling out, of trying to lose herself in the crowd.

Instead, she follows Damon to a line of people. It moves so quickly, she doesn’t even realize what their in line for until she’s being strapped into a roller coaster car.

Elena loves roller coasters, but she still gets butterflies on their slow pull up the slope to the large, steep drop.

“Do you need to hold my hand?” Damon says, teasing and grinning.

Elena truly tries to be mad at him, but then they’re dropping forward and she’s letting loose a scream. And then she’s laughing as they go through the smaller drops, the twists and turns.

The adrenaline finally makes her mind go blank. Letting herself just feel loose and happy.

And when she gets off the ride and stumbles a bit, and Damon catches her, she let’s out a small giggle. Just letting herself feel what she feels.

The rest of the day goes on like that, with Damon pulling Elena to all the scariest rollercoasters, ones that make her scream and laugh and nearly pass out for a moment from the G forces.

Damon even tries a carnival game, promising to win her the best prize. It’s the unsteady ladder, only anchored by a single point.

With his vampiric reflexes, Elena is so surprised she cracks a laugh when Damon makes a big show of falling off the ladder the first time. He doesn’t lose again, though, and he wins her a large teddy bear which he insists on keeping and hauling around for her.

While they’re waiting in line for hot dogs for lunch, there’s a blur of movement and suddenly a young girl is clutching Damon’s leg.

Elena is surprised when Damon doesn’t immediately kick her off, but instead picks up the girl, who can’t be more than 3.

“Hi, where are your parents?” Damon says, kinder than Elena expected.

The girl only gives him a wide-eyed look and shakes her head, seemingly lost.

“Well, would you mind if I tried to help you find them?” Damon asks sweetly.

The whole thing is very strange to Elena. A vampire – the monster that lurks in the dark – helping out a small child as if he were a kindergarten teacher.

Elena continues staring at them as she follows them to the lost kids station. Watches Damon talk to the child, ask her what her name is, manages to get her to smile a bit as they wait for her parents to collect her.

Two women bustle into the station not too long after, obviously distressed and extremely grateful to see their daughter safe and sound. They offer their thanks to Damon, who just shrugs and says it’s nothing.

Huh. Who knew Damon could be modest, Elena thinks.

The rest of their time at the amusement park passes quickly, having ridden all the most exciting rides each at least twice. Elena, tired, feet sore, and feeling better than she has in weeks, lets out a long sigh when they get back to the car.

She’s surprised, though, when Damon takes them not back to their hotel, but instead to a large lake.

Even more so when he leads her onto a modest boat tied at the dock. Wordlessly, Damon steers the boat out a ways onto the lake so that they can watch the sun set on the horizon.

Elena’s confusion clears, though, when Damon brings her to the flat area at the front of the boat.

There’s a picnic all laid out nicely, even with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. The perfect ideal of a romantic dinner.

“Damon,” Elena says slowly, almost unwilling to ask her question. “Is this… Did you take me out on a date?”

Damon’s expression falls the slightest bit, but he takes her hand and looks at her earnestly.

“Would it really be so terrible, letting me take you out on dates?” Damon asks. “Didn’t you have fun?”

“I didn’t know it was a date!” Elena says, exhasperated, and pulls her hand out of his. “And I didn’t agree to do any of this, you just forced me into it like you do with everything!”

“You were having fun though. In any other circumstance this would’ve been our first date,” Damon pushes.

“Oh, so are you going to bring me home to my parents after this? Make sure I’m home by 9? Ask me out on a second date? Are you going to have dinner with my family once we become official?” Elena’s voice rises with every question. Not with anger, but with concern. What does Damon think this is? This thing between them. It’s not _normal_ , and he shouldn’t pretend that it is.

“We can still have all of that,” Damon says in a levelled tone.

“No, we can’t, Damon! I didn’t want any of this! This can’t be a relationship if you’re never going to give me a choice to say no!” Elena says, with rising fervor now. Determined to make him realize what this is, and what it can never be.

“I won’t have to if you always say yes!” Damon responds, reaching out to her. But she remains distant, keeps herself pulled away from him.

“I will never say yes,” Elena presses, tries to be firm as she was before she got caught in all these messy feelings. “You can’t undo everything that’s happened between us just with one pretend date.”

“You will be happy with me,” Damon says, shaking his head. “If you just let me take care of you. You saw that today, I can make you happy.”

Elena hesitates, recalling the joy she had felt. But she tries harder to keep herself set. “It doesn’t matter how I felt. You and me will never work.”

“Why not?” Damon begs, taking her hands between his, again, not letting her pull away this time. “We would be so good together, Elena. Just like we were before, just like today, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Elena asserts. “Even if I were to say yes to you, it won’t ever mean anything until I can say no.”

Damon’s face falls. “All you do is say no to me. But I know,” Damon seems almost wildly desperate now, “I know there’s something between us. You’ll see it someday.”

Elena just shakes her head, pushing her feelings down. “And if I do? You’ll realize I’m not me anymore. I’ll be someone else, someone who accepts being trapped forever. That won’t make you happy, Damon.”

Damon shakes his head, denying her. He brings one of her hands up, makes her cup his face and he leans into the pretend comfort of it. Elena feels so sad for him, for his deep need, she doesn’t have the heart to try to pull away.

“It will still be _you_ , Elena,” Damon says softly, sweetly. “That’s all I need.”

Elena shakes her head, but Damon nods, clutching their hands together again.

“Just think of it, Elena, try to picture it. Every day could be an adventure with me. We could go anywhere, do anything. I will give you everything you could ever want.”

Elena can see it, too. She can see herself letting go of her qualms, her idea of her life. Letting herself fall into Damon. Letting her whole life revolve around him. Going all over the world, doing anything and everything she could dream of as long as he was by her side.

But she still just shakes her head, and frowns at his pained look in response.

“You can’t give me my freedom, Damon. Without that, my life would be empty.”

Damon probably would’ve responded. Would’ve argued, pleaded, convinced her differently. Put a lighter spin on his idea of how their lives together would be. But his phone ringing stops him, and separates them.

He talks to April, Elena assumes. The moment is lost, packed up with the picnic, and their argument lingers, unspoken in the quiet car ride back.

April’s research on altars is what ultimately gives them the clue they needed.

“So it’s like I thought. Someone is building their own altar, one separate from the coven’s, to build their power,” she explains when Damon and Elena meet her at the entrance to the woods. “The rogue needed to destroy the current altar to destabilize the coven. It’s also why the last witch was drained of her power – the rogue is starting to build their own power somewhere. But it has to be close to where we found the body in the woods.”

Elena rubs her temples, still shell shocked from her earlier conversation with Damon. She only catches parts of April’s explanation, and she understands even less of it.

“Which means,” Damon replies, “there’s gotta be an altar somewhere in there.” He nods his chin towards the woods.

April nods, too. “I think the best idea is to split up, cover more ground. Just don’t try to confront her by yourself. Call me if you find it, and we can regroup with the rest of the coven.”

Damon nods. “Come on then, Elena.”

“What? Why do I have to come?” Elena objects.

“You’re not leaving my side, remember?” Damon says resolutely, and leaves no room for argument. So Elena just groans and follows him into the darkened wooded path.

April splits off at the first fork, leaving the two of them to walk in silence.

The tension is palpable between them. Elena feels so unsettled by Damon’s admission of his ideas for their future together. Like he’d already planned it and he was just waiting for Elena to give the final “yes” that would lock her into her place beside him for the rest of her life.

Elena almost is about to bring it up, to try to convince him to stop thinking such stupid things, when Damon stops suddenly.

“What is it?” Elena asks, looking around them for some sign of what made Damon stop.

“Do you know where we are?” Damon says.

Elena looks at her surroundings again, but nothing seems familiar.

“This is where you ran from me,” Damon continues, a bitter tone in his voice that makes Elena cringe.

“I’m not going to apologize for-“ Elena tries, but is cut off by Damon.

“No, I’m not talking about that,” Damon says curtly. “This is where I got that bizarre aneurism. April thought it might be because of the rogue witch, which means she had to have been near here when it happened.”

Elena’s skin tingles, suddenly feeling as though someone is watching her from beyond the trees.

Damon grabs Elena’s hand and starts moving them forward, seeming to know exactly where he’s going now.

Elena realizes his goal when she spots the edge of a clearing with small stones ahead. Where he found her.

“It’s a graveyard,” Damon says resolutely. “Perfect place for an altar, don’t you think?”

“I do,” a voice says from behind Elena. “It’s why I picked it.”

Damon spins around and tugs Elena behind him, putting his body between her and the voice.

“Aw, protecting your little play-thing, Damon?” the voice says, stepping out from the shadows between the trees. Elena knows who it is before she can see the figure stepping out into the light.

“Ella,” Elena breathes out from behind Damon. “You did all this? Killed your own coven and destroyed your mother’s bar?”

Ella only shrugs and circles Damon, coming into clearer view for Elena. Damon matches her, though, keeping Elena out of Ella’s line of sight.

“I was denied the position that was rightfully mine. Dear old mother thought I was too unstable, though, so I decided to start my own coven,” Ella admits casually. “If I had to kill a few witches to build my altar, so be it.”

“But you said it yourself,” Elena says, confused. “You said your coven is your family. That protecting them is like protecting yourself!”

Ella mock pouts at Elena, still circling the two of them. Elena knows Ella will try to hurt her first to get at Damon.

“They’re batteries,” Ella responds simply. “They’re just little walking power supplies for me to use as I’d like.”

“But why do all this? What do you want?” Elena tries again, stalling for time now. If only she could get Damon to call April, but he seems far too focused on keeping Elena out of the path of danger.

Ella stops circling them, then, and leans back against a tree, inspecting her nails. “Mom was a coward. She stopped pushing the boundaries of magic, stopped trying to grow our coven’s power and instead ran a dumpy bar in a nowhere town,” Ella says bitterly. “She’s stale, while I’ve been learning of so many new ways to gain power.”

At that, Ella looks up and smiles at them, giving Elena more chills on the base of her skull. It’s almost as if there is someone behind her, Elena thinks, breathing on her neck.

Elena looks to the side for just a moment, but when she looks back ahead, Ella is gone.

Then Elena feels herself being lifted into the air, feet leaving the ground, pulled away from Damon’s safe proximity.

“Put her down or I will kill you,” Damon growls out.

“Move and I’ll kill her,” Ella threatens, sauntering towards Damon from where she teleported behind Elena. “I’ll drain the life out of her so fast you won’t be able to catch her lifeless corpse before it hits the ground.”

Damon’s eyes look wild, and he clenches his jaw, but remains where he is.

“Good boy,” Ella purrs out. “You just couldn’t mind your own business. I would’ve been happy to let you leave and go back to your little game with Ms. Floaty over there.” Ella gestures to where Elena is held aloft, frozen, behind her.

“Why not let us go now?” Damon grinds out from behind clenched teeth, eyes flickering between Ella and Elena. “We’ll be out of your hair for good. No more helping the coven.”

Ella seems to consider it, tapping her chin. “I’m sorry, Damon, but that doesn’t guarantee you won’t come crawling back to kill me as soon as Elena’s out of harm’s way.”

“Then how about I sweeten the deal?” Damon says, cocking his head to the side and slowly starting towards Ella. Elena recognizes Damon’s sultry tone that he uses only when trying to seduce her, and wonders what his ploy is.

Ella moves towards him, drawn towards his change in mood. “I’m listening.”

“I can help you end the rest of the coven. Instead of picking them off one by one we could kill them in one sweep. You keep Elena as long as you’d like to make sure I keep my end of the deal.” Damon inches closer to Ella, but Elena sees his eyes flick to her once more.

“Mhmm?” Ella questions. “You’d do that for me?”

For Elena’s vantage point, she can see Ella’s eyes grow lidded with Damon’s seductive promise of power. She’s letting her guard down, Elena thinks.

“I’d do whatever you want,” Damon says in a low voice. He steps even closer to Ella, finally able to put his hands on her hips and draw her towards him roughly. “You could have all the power you wanted.”

(Something burns inside of Elena that she refuses to think about.)

“Prove it,” Ella says, not fully believing Damon, yet.

Damon raises an eyebrow, but smirks and begins lowering his mouth to Ella’s.

(The harsh bite of jealousy rips through Elena. She’s only glad she can’t move, or she might scream at Damon to stop.)

In a flash, though, Damon’s mouth is at Ella’s neck instead, ripping through it.

The spell on Elena breaks suddenly, and she hits the ground with a shock. Pulling herself up, she sees Damon draining Ella, as if he planned on killing her.

“Damon, stop!” Elena cries, reaching out to him.

She cringes back, though, when he pulls himself off of Ella’s throat to look at Elena. His eyes black, and blood dripping from his mouth.

“Stop?” he growls out to her, holding Ella’s limp body in his arms. “She nearly killed you – _twice_ \- and you are trying to save her _life?_ ”

“Please, Damon, you’re better than this,” Elena begs. She wants him to not be the monster she sees before her. She wants him to be the good man who did everything he could to make her smile today. “Show me you can be good.”

Damon groans and shakes his head. “I’m not good, Elena. I’m _not_ ”

“You can be! Please, try, for me!” Elena cries.

Damon stares at Elena with his monstrous features, glares at her. Like he’s willing her to see that his darker nature is all he is, all he could ever be.

But Elena refuses to believe it. She matches his stare, and pleads for him to stop with her eyes.

Damon holds her gaze only a moment more, before dropping Ella’s limp – but alive – body to the ground unceremoniously.

Damon wipes the blood from his mouth and takes a deep breath, letting his veined eyes melt away. When he drops to his knees in front of her, his eyes are blue again, and Elena is relieved.

She even lets him lean his forehead on hers as he dials April’s number.

Damon doesn’t waste any time packing their bags the next day. Elena isn’t upset to be leaving, tired of being away from her home town for too long. She does, however, convince him to let her visit April one more time before they leave.

“I’m gonna miss seeing your face,” April says sweetly.

Elena breaks into a small smile. “Why, can’t you just change into me at any time?” she teases.

April blushes. “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

Elena nods, and rubs her arm, a bit awkward and unsure.

“You’re good for him,” April says, gesturing over to Damon. “You see the good in him, and you bring it out of him. He’ll give you your freedom eventually.”

Elena frowns, wishing she could be as certain as April. She nods though, appreciative of April’s reassurance.

“But if he doesn’t,” April says quietly, looking at her intensely. “Take this. If he ever goes off the edge, break this. It’ll only work if you truly need it, and it’ll only work once, so use it wisely.”

April kisses Elena’s cheek, squeezes her in a brief, but tight hug, and steps away with a finality.

Elena wonders if she’ll ever see her again.

In the car, Damon smiles at her.

“Made a friend?” he says, looking over towards April.

Elena nods absently, clutching her fist to her chest. “I guess so,” she murmurs.

Later, when Damon is distracted by driving and nodding his head along to some music, Elena opens her fist and looks down at her palm.

Inside is a small white pearl.

Elena has no idea what it’s for, but feels remarkably overwhelmed with emotion at the gesture of kindness she’d received from this tiny witch she’d known for just a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps up our story with the witch coven! Next chapter we will see the return of Stefan! I’ll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can. I’ve got my PhD prelim exams coming up in November, though, so sorry if it takes a while for me to finish it!  
> Edit: I passed my exam!!!! I'm so soooo relieved and I finally have time to work on Chapter 6! I'm really psyched for this next chapter and I've already got the entire plot laid out, so I should be able to update in the next few days! Thanks for bearing with me, though, after this month long hiatus! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!


	6. Hope and Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who didn’t read my edit on the last chapter – I passed my exam!!! I’m so relieved and so excited to finally be finishing this story. Sorry for the longer than a month hiatus, but I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

They’re driving away from Georgia, back to Mystic falls.

“Where are we going?” Elena asks, cautiously, softly. Doesn’t want to know the answer.

Damon sets his mouth in a firm line, and only says, “Home.”

So they’re going back to the boarding house. Back to where they’ll be alone. Where Damon will have all the time in the world to wear Elena down. Until she’s stays with him willingly, but only as a shadow of her former self. She knows how it’ll play out.

The only thing keeping her from panicking is the tiny white gem she clutches in her fist.

But Elena can’t use it yet. She doesn’t know how, but she somehow knows that if she tried to crush it now, nothing would happen, and she’d lose her chance.

That’s how Elena knows there’s another option still. Something else she has yet to try. But what?

Elena feels more lost than ever. Her new feelings for Damon, however small, however new, would still prevent her from trying to leave without knowing he would be alright.

At least, alright enough that he wouldn’t immediately pursue her again. Wouldn’t come after her and all her loved ones for her daring to leave him.

It’s not love, though, what she’s feeling. Not yet. Elena can’t love Damon when he still hurts her so much everyday, keeping her from everything she loves. But she does care for him.

It’s probably her caring nature that made it so easy to become attached to him, to not want to see him hurt.

And that’s almost worse because now she can feel his pain, too, but still wouldn’t give up her freedom for him. Elena is caught between Damon’s wanting her to stay, but her needing to go.

After thinking a moment, Elena unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches her upper body into the backseat, rummaging through her duffel bag.

“Woah, hey, what happened to seatbelt safety?” Damon says, grabbing her thigh and tugging her back into her seat.

Elena lets herself be pulled, having retrieved what she was looking for. “I was just getting something.”

“Uh-huh,” Damon says, eying her warily. “Next time at least warn the driver.”

“Right, like you don’t have vampire reflexes. I’m sure we’d be fine,” Elena says, nonchalant and brushing him off.

“ _We’d_ be fine, yeah,” Damon agrees. “But what if I got a scratch on my baby?” he coos and strokes the dashboard lovingly.

“It’s a car, Damon,” Elena deadpans.

“Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t understand,” Damon hums, patting his steering wheel. He grins, though, when he notices Elena’s mouth twitch into a half-smile from the corner of his eye.

Elena rolls her eyes, and starts flipping through the journal she pulled from her bag, the one she’d written in so long ago.

In it, she’d kept her innermost thoughts, and had prayed that Damon hadn’t looked.

After her brief suicidal stint, Elena had become more determined than ever, and had taken down every piece of information she could about Damon. Understanding him was the key to her freedom, if she could figure out how to convince him to let her go. There was something she’d written that she couldn’t quite remember, and it would be the key to her last ditch plan to escape.

What was it? She searches the pages for only a few minutes before she tracks it down.

 _There_ , the missing piece she’d forgotten. _Stefan._

Damon still misses his brother. If Elena could give Damon his brother back, maybe he’d let her leave.

Or at least, if she still had to escape, then maybe Elena wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving, since she wouldn’t be leaving Damon completely alone, as she had found him.

Just the thought of seeing Stefan again chills her, though. He’d seemed so interested in Elena. Maybe not even killing her, just using her as his meal, or his plaything.

Elena shudders.

Best not to think about that. As much as she worries about these new feelings, she does trust Damon to keep her safe. She’s sure he’d protect her from anything, even his own brother.

Elena just hopes that doesn’t mean Damon would be willing to kill Stefan to protect her. That would definitely spoil her plans.

“By home, you mean we’re going back to the boarding house, right?” Elena asks Damon, preparing herself for an argument.

“I know, I know,” Damon says, annoyance seeping into his tone. “It’s not your home. Well you’re still going back.”

Elena swallows, hoping she can convince Damon. “No, I just meant that… well I was wondering…” she trails off, unsure of her plan for a moment.

“What?” Damon says, suddenly curious. “Tell me,” he demands.

“Well, I remember earlier you told me you didn’t kill Stefan, and he’s still out there. And if you take me back to the boarding house, who’s to say he won’t be there, waiting for us? What’s stopping Stefan from coming after me again?”

Damon looks at her sideways, concern furrowing his brow. “You don’t have to worry about that, I’ll protect you.”

“I know you will,” Elena assuages, trying to emphasize her trust in him. “But what if you go out for an hour and he attacks me while you’re gone? As long as he’s out there, aren’t I still in danger? Stefan didn’t seem like the type to roll over easily.”

Damon narrows his eyes at her, and Elena can see suspicion flicker across his expression. Elena puts on her most innocent expression, eyes wide and open. She even bites her lower lip to display her worry. She gets the reaction she wants when Damon’s eyes flit to her lips, and his tongue darts out to lick his own, as if he still remembers the taste of her on them.

It’s a bit much, a bit theatrical, Elena knows. But she has to try. It’s her only option. She fears if Damon takes her back to the boarding house, she may not ever leave it again.

(Or even worse. Whoever leaves won’t really be her anymore.)

“Why the sudden interest in Stefan?” Damon says, and tears his eyes off of her to glare at the road ahead. His expression looks stormy, and Elena can only guess what he’s thinking.

“It’s not interest. I’m just… scared what’ll happen if he comes back,” Elena says softly, letting her real fear of Stefan color her tone. Lets it disguise her true motivations.

Damon’s frown only deepens though, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. “He wouldn’t let you go, either, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says darkly.

Elena clenches her fists. The pain of her nails cutting into her palms keeps her calm enough to not blurt out anything stupid.

( _I know he wouldn’t_ , she could say. _I’d rather be with you than him._ )

She can’t let him know she trusts him. He’d use it against her, she knows he would.

“Stefan’s got no humanity,” Damon continues, ignorant of her warring thoughts. “He’d use you as a walking blood bag or compel you into dancing naked on tabletops. Probably both.”

“I’m _not_ looking for his help,” Elena forces out between a clenched jaw. Damon doesn’t have to remind her. She knows how merciless Stefan is – she can still feel his _teeth_ in her _neck_. “I just don’t want to have to constantly be watching my back for whenever he decides to come back and kill me.”

“So you want to just ask him nicely? ‘Please Stefan, leave me alone?’” Damon says in a mocking, high-pitched voice. “He’s not going to just _listen_ to us.”

Elena swallows, preparing to lay out the last piece of her plan.

“What if we gave him something he wanted?” she says carefully.

“ _We_ don’t have anything that _he_ wants,” Damon says, exasperated.

“What if we helped him find Katherine?” Elena asks, trying to sound more certain of herself than she feels. She braces herself for Damon’s reaction.

Damon’s face closes off to her, though, becoming stony and nearly unreadable. Elena thinks she sees the faintest sign of pain behind his eyes, but he refuses to look at her, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

“Maybe if Stefan had her… he’d be less interested in me,” she tries again.

Elena waits for Damon to say something, but he doesn’t. They pass three more exit signs, getting closer and closer to her prison every minute. It’s more than Elena can stand, wondering what Damon is thinking.

“Maybe if we find Katherine, you’d finally leave me alone, too,” Elena lashes out, tired of waiting for a response and glaring out of her window. “After all, she’s the one you really want, isn’t she? I’m just a lesser version, just a stand in since you couldn’t have her.”

(Even as she says the words, she knows they aren’t true.)

It has the effect she wants, though. Damon pulls over to the shoulder almost immediately and puts the car in park. But Elena doesn’t want to hear anything he has to say. As soon as they’re stopped, she pushes her door open and storms into the woods at the side of the road.

“Elena!” Damon calls after her, getting out of his seat as well.

“Leave me alone, Damon!” she calls back to him, trying to distance herself from him. She can’t ever get far enough away. Even though she’s out of the car and away from him, she can still feel him surrounding her.

She wonders if she will ever feel truly alone again.

“Not gonna happen,” Damon says, appearing in front of her with supernatural speed.

Elena’s fist moves by itself, almost landing on Damon’s cheek before he catches it with his reflexes. He glares down at her, nostrils flaring with anger.

“Don’t. Do that. Again.” Damon growls out.

“Why don’t you just make me a vampire, Damon?” Elena sneers. “Level the playing field. Make it a fair fight for once. Then I’d be _just_ like Katherine.”

Damon’s eyes burn into hers, and his hand grinds the bones in her wrist for just a moment before throwing her hand away from his face.

“Oh wait, I forgot,” Elena says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just your little blood bag. Just a meek human for you to use as you please. Go on. Push me up against that tree and have your way with me. Or throw my back into your car and haul me back to my _cage_.”

Elena doesn’t run. Knows it wouldn’t do her any good. She’ll stand her ground as best she can, for as long as she can.

Let Damon _know_ she won’t go back to the boarding house without a fight. She glares up at him with every bit of anger she can muster.

There’s a moment where it’s just them, facing off against each other. Both unwilling to lose any ground or concede to the other.

But then Damon’s hands come up to cup her face, surprising Elena entirely. His thumbs stroke her cheeks in a way that Elena hates is so familiar to her now.

Damon’s eyes still burn, but more with passion than true anger, Elena can tell. When he speaks, his voice comes out low, but softer than Elena expects.

“You mean more to me than Katherine ever did. Human and all.”

In so few words, Damon reminds Elena of everything he feels for her. It floors her, and deflates her. In her stubbornness to hold Damon’s gaze, Elena feels the edge of her anger dull from the emotion she sees in his eyes.

She’s been with him too long, now, she knows. She can’t help her heart aching at his confession.

( _Kiss him,_ says the voice in the back of her head.)

( _Fuck off_ , she says back, still strong enough to fight against her feelings for Damon.)

Breaking his gaze, though it takes a certain amount of effort now, Elena pulls her head to the side before Damon can lean into her further. Before she’s consumed with wanting with his breath on her face, his lips inches from hers.

Damon doesn’t stop her when she pulls away from him completely, and Elena can appreciate his restraint in letting her go. She turns her back to him and wraps her arms around herself, feeling the chill of a colder summer night.

“You’re right, Stefan would want Katherine,” Damon admits.

 _Thank god_ , Elena thinks. She managed to convince Damon to go along with her plan.

 _Oh god,_ she realizes. _We’re going to see Stefan_.

“Can you track down someone by a picture of them?” she hears Damon say. She turns and sees him with his phone against his ear. Talking to April, Elena guesses. “Surveillance cameras, ID records, hotel check-ins, whatever you can use.”

Elena walks back to the car, and she swears she can _feel_ Damon following behind her without even having to look. As if an invisible string tethered them together.

“Yeah, any derivation of Katherine Pierce should work. Thanks, let me know.”

As much as Elena misses her home town, she can’t help but feel a massive wave of relief as they pass the sign for Mystic Falls and continue North.

“Where are we going?” Elena finally asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Baltimore,” Damon answers.

Elena can’t help but feel a little disappointed. She’d hoped they would find Stefan in D.C., if only to let her see the monuments she’d seen in pictures.

 _Another day_ , she thinks to herself. _When I have my freedom back, I’ll go wherever I want._

That thought sustains her as she settles in for the long drive.

Elena wakes up disoriented. She’s in a room she doesn’t recognize and doesn’t remember how she got there. She tries thinks back to the last thing she remembers.

They had just arrived in Baltimore when a screeching sound startled her.

Headlights. The crunch of metal on metal. Then her seatbelt was jerking her back into her seat.

Damon was faster to react than she was, not having to deal with whiplash and the human aches after a car crash.

“Elena?” she heard him say to her, distantly. He sounded panicked, but at her groan, he had sighed in relief.

“What happened?” she managed to get out through her pounding headache.

“Are you okay?” he asked, ignoring her question. “Is anything broken?”

Elena had kept her eyes shut and shook her head. The pain washed over her, and caused her to groan again.

“What hit us?” she asked again, but was only met with silence.

Elena forced her eyes open, and had gasped when she saw Damon lying limply beside her with a syringe sticking out from his neck.

“Damon?” she had shouted, pulling the syringe out. But the plunger had already been pushed, and Elena assumed there was already vervain pumping through his system.

Elena noticed his eyes were still open, though, and his lips moving slightly.

“What did you say?” she had asked him, moving her ear to his lips, yet still almost missing his next words.

“Stefan,” Damon had managed to whisper to her. “Run.”

Elena froze instead, knowing she wouldn’t make it far anyways.

Her neck tingled. Terrified to look but unable to stop herself, Elena turned to look out her window.

Except the door was already open. And standing in front of it, bent down to her level, was Stefan, grinning at her.

“Aw, did you miss me, Elena?” Stefan had said, wrapping his sickly sweet voice around her name.

“Stefan, please, wait-“ Elena had begged. Tried to talk to him before he could hurt her.

(Before he could hurt Damon.)

“Shh shh,” Stefan cooed to her, leaning closer and reaching his arm across her to unbuckle her seatbelt. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk when we’re alone.”

“No, Stefan, stop!” Elena had cried, trying to push him away.

All she’d seen was his too-charming smile before he slammed her head into the hard dashboard, and everything had gone black.

And now she was in a room. On a bed. Presumably alone with Stefan.

This was _not_ how she wanted this to go. She wasn’t supposed to have to deal with him alone, without Damon to protect her.

“Ugh, _finally_ , you’re awake,” Stefan says, walking into the room as he towels off his wet hair. “If I’d known you were going to pass out that long I wouldn’t have knocked you out.”

“Oh, excuse me for being unconscious after you gave me a concussion,” she bites back to him. Well, even though her mind is foggy, at least she still has her wit. Maybe she can make it out of this alive.

“Right, right,” Stefan nods. “Humans are so fragile. So easy to forget after 150 years as a vampire. Here, open up.”

Elena barely can process his words, doesn’t have time to object before Stefan is pushing his bitten wrist into her mouth, his blood flowing into her throat.

Stefan holds the back of her neck so she can’t pull away, and casually smiles at her as she glares at him. The blood works, though. Her aches fade quickly and her mind clears.

Satisfied seeing Elena swallow willingly, Stefan pulls his wrist away from her. Before she can shrug off his grip on her neck, though, he swipes his finger across her bottom lip, cleaning up the spilled blood there and licking it off his fingers.

Stefan winks at her, and Elena shudders in disgust.

“What do you want from me?” Elena asks him, her eyes quickly surveying her surroundings.

She sits on a bed in what looks like an apartment, she guesses, from the view of the city lights she can see out the window. Too high up, probably, to escape that way. Elena doesn’t see an exterior door, either, just a hallway outside the bedroom.

“I just want some answers,” Stefan says innocently. “The love of my life shows up out of nowhere, except she’s human and doesn’t remember me at all? I think I deserve to know why.”

“I’m _not_ Katherine,” Elena says firmly. “Don’t think for a second that I’m anything like her.”

Stefan leans against the wall, so casually, and strokes his chin. “So Damon told you about her, then. You don’t know the _full_ story, though.”

“I know enough,” Elena says, tilting her chin up in a feign of bravado.

“Doubt that,” Stefan says coolly.

“Where is Damon?” Elena asks, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, but scooting herself backwards on the bed, away from Stefan.

“I don’t think you get it,” Stefan says, piercing her with a stare. “I’m the one asking the questions here.”

“Did you kill him?” she presses.

“How old are you?” Stefan tries to redirect.

Elena keeps her mouth shut, refusing to answer any questions until she knows Damon is safe.

Stefan tries to wait her out, but is apparently much less patient than Damon is.

“Fine,” he groans. “I didn’t kill him. Now _you_ answer _my_ question. How old are you?” he tries again.

“Damon will find me,” Elena says, pushing her luck even further. “No matter where I am, he’ll come for me.”

Stefan is in front of her instantly, kneeling in front of her on the bed. “Answer me, _now_ , or I get a snack.”

His hand shoots out to grab her arm, and he yanks it to his mouth, causing Elena to fall forward into him. She has to put her hand on his chest to steady herself.

“I’m eighteen!” Elena cries before Stefan can sink his pointed fangs into her wrist. “I was born in Mystic Falls to Grayson Gilbert and Miranda Sommers, June 22nd, 1992,” she rushes out, trying to appease Stefan.

Stefan stops and smiles at her. “Thank you, Elena,” he says softly, catching her off-guard. “But I’m actually quite thirsty.”

Pain blooms in her wrist as Stefan sinks his teeth into her. One hand remains clutching her wrist to his mouth, while the other wraps around her waist as she tries in vain to pull away.

“Stop!” she shouts, watching him greedily suck at her vein. “Please, Stefan, please!”

Stefan’s eyes open. Though his teeth continue to dig into her wrist, he smirks up at her with veins crawling out from his eyes. Elena can’t pull herself to look away, and a feeling of dread spreads throughout her body.

She’s so fucked. Who knows how long it’ll take Damon to find her, and what Stefan might do to her in the meantime.

“April?” Damon practically shouts into his phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m working as fast as I can. It’ll take some time to find Katherine,” he hears her say on the other end of the line.

“No, I need you to find someone else, as fast as you fucking can,” Damon says, panic bleeding into his tone.

“Who?” April asks, becoming immediately serious hearing the fear in Damon’s voice.

“Stefan Salvatore,” Damon manages to growl out.

He can’t believe he’s so fucking _stupid_. All he could do was _watch_ as Stefan smashed Elena’s skull into the dashboard and carried her away. He didn’t even find the strength to pull his phone out of his pocket until nearly an _hour_ later, the vervain sapping his strength from him.

“I’m on it,” April responds.

“April?” Damon says before she can hang up.

“Yeah?”

“ _Please hurry_ ,” he breathes out. If he was human, he would probably be having a panic attack right about now. But he just hangs up the phone, and forces his body to cooperate. The vervain slows him, but he can finally move again.

The dent Stefan left in Damon’s car comes out with a gentle tap to the inside of the door. Satisfied and resolved to give Stefan a thorough ass kicking when he finds him, starts circling the city, keeping an eye out for any sign of Stefan and Elena.

Elena’s taste lingers on Stefan’s tongue. With how sweet she is, it’s a miracle he even manages to stop himself from taking even more.

But he wants answers more than blood.

For now.

Stefan lounges back on the bed, letting Elena press herself into the far corner. Hell, he wouldn’t even mind if she ran away. A chase might be fun.

Elena doesn’t seem to be running, though. Stefan puzzles over it for a moment, but realizes she’s spent a lot of time with Damon. She must understand that trying to escape is futile with a vampire on her heels.

Stefan feels a bit disappointed at that. Maybe he can feign falling asleep and she’d take her chances.

Not now, though. Now is the time to just talk.

“So, Elena, born June 22nd, 1992,” Stefan teases. Elena is more fun than his last five girls combined. He sees why Damon likes to keep her around. “How did you and Damon meet?”

Elena visibly shivers as she clutches her wrist to her chest. Stefan smirks as he inhales the scent of the blood slowly drying on her arm.

“He kidnapped me when I got lost in the woods,” Elena says softly. “I didn’t realize he was keeping me there at first. I just thought we were stuck in the house after a storm…”

“Go on,” Stefan encourages her. “Don’t leave out any of the bloody details.”

Elena’s cheeks go pink, which surprises him.

“Oh, I see,” Stefan says knowingly, grinning. “Don’t leave out the steamy details either.”

Elena glares at him, staying quiet but still blushing.

Annoyed, Stefan pulls himself forward to the edge of the bed. “Unless you’d rather me indulge myself more?”

Elena’s eyes go wide with fear, and she shakes her head.

“Then, go on,” Stefan waves his hand, gesturing for her to continue.

“We slept together,” Elena blurts out. “Happy?”

“Could be happier,” Stefan says, smirking at her suggestively. “When did you find out he was a vampire?”

“When you showed up,” Elena jerks her chin at him.

“Oops,” Stefan says, not sorry in the slightest. “Have you slept with him since you found out?”

Elena, already blushing, tries to keep her face blank. But Stefan hears her heartrate spike, answering him for her.

“Really?” Stefan says, surprised. “You still wanted him even though you knew what he was?”

“ _No_ ,” Elena says, curtly, anger in her eyes. She looks to Stefan like a small, angry kitten. He almost wants to see her claws, feel her fury, though harmless against him.

“So he compelled you,” Stefan guesses, leaning towards her.

“No! Damon wouldn’t –“ Elena cuts herself off.

“Oh, I see. He’s too _good_ to do that to you,” Stefan rolls his eyes. “My goody goody brother is too nice to force you into anything.”

“It was a spell. We didn’t have any choice,” Elena answers, but Stefan is only left with more questions. He decides to leave that conversation for later, more interested in pursuing another topic.

“ _I_ could compel you, you know. Unlike my brother, I have no qualms with getting exactly what I want.” Stefan stands and slowly walks towards Elena’s corner. She shrinks back from him.

“I could _make_ you willing. Let Damon find us together, with you moaning _my_ name.” Stefan brings his arms up on either side of her, caging her in. Elena glares up at him, a fiery defiance pushing through her fear. He can see why Damon likes her so much.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispers softly, but her voice doesn’t shake anymore. There’s a strength to her that Stefan can’t help but admire. He’s bitten her twice and she still has the balls to defy him.

Stefan lowers his head closer to hers so that their eyes are level. He runs his fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

Why not let her see exactly how different him and Damon are?

“You don’t give the orders, love,” Stefan says softly.

Elena narrows her eyes, but doesn’t respond. She waits to see what he’ll do next. Stefan can’t quite decide himself. Which part of Elena should he enjoy first?

“What do you think would’ve happened if you met me first? Instead of Damon?” Stefan asks her, curious.

Elena visibly shivers again. “You would’ve killed me,” she states simply.

“Hah, maybe,” Stefan agrees, letting out a small laugh. “Maybe not. But I wouldn’t have treated you as well as Damon, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t be so…unspoiled.”

His eyes travel down to her lips, which look soft and inviting. Stefan can’t help but drag his thumb across them, finding they feel as plush as they look.

(The faint memory of Katherine’s lips on his own flashes in his mind.)

“Then again,” Stefan says, feeling his eyes turn vampiric, though his hunger is of a different nature. “Maybe I would’ve asked you out, gotten to know you. Seduced you.”

“Made me Katherine’s replacement, you mean?” Elena snaps at him.

Stefan growls involuntarily at the mention of his dead past lover. He almost regrets it when Elena cowers away from him.

“No, you’re nothing like her, I can see that now,” Stefan says, regretfully. Mournfully. “How could you be so much like her, but not like her at all?”

“I don’t know,” Elena whispers out. “Damon was looking into it. He thinks I’m Katherine’s descendant.”

“Hm… I wonder how much like her you really are,” Stefan hums into her ear. Elena’s body is warm against him, and she smells delicious. Stefan feels his restraint slipping away. His questions can wait a little longer, while he has his fun.

“No, Stefan,” Elena says as she feels his lips on her neck, just kissing for now. “Stop, you don’t want me.”

“Mm,” Stefan moans against her neck. “I really do, though.”

“No,” she insists, pressing her hands against his chest. “You want Katherine.”

Stefan rips his lips off of Elena and snarls into her ear. “Katherine is _dead_.”

Elena gasps. “What? No! No, she isn’t!”

Stefan pulls back to look into her eyes, looking some tell that she’s lying.

“She’s _not_ dead. That’s how Damon found me, he was in the woods after he found out Katherine faked her death!”

“You’re telling me the truth?” Stefan asks suspiciously. “You’re not just lying to save yourself?”

Elena shakes her head vigorously. “Damon and I came here to help you find Katherine, before you crashed our car. I thought if you had her, you wouldn’t keep coming after me.”

Stefan stares at Elena, tries to see through her, but her eyes only show honesty. Her heartbeat, while fast, does not stutter from a lie.

Waves of emotions crash through him like a train, emotions he’d thought were long buried.

Stefan tears himself away from Elena, turning away from her before she can see him being torn apart.

Katherine is alive? Pure joy. The sweetest happiness.

She never came for him? The deepest despair.

And all because of one girl. One silly human girl who put herself back within his grasp.

These painful emotions are because of _her_.

Stefan should show her his _appreciation_.

Elena watches as Stefan turns back towards her, not with a lustful or angry expression, as she might’ve guessed, but with one of deep sorrow, and bitterness.

“She never came back for us,” Stefan says to her, stalking towards her slowly.

“Stefan, don’t,” Elena begs again.

“No, she didn’t,” a voice says from the doorway. Looking past Stefan, Elena can see Damon just inside the room. Elena lets out a small breath of relief. Although the danger hasn’t passed, she still already feels safer.

“She didn’t come back,” Damon repeats, shaking his head. Elena can see an echo of Stefan in Damon’s pained expression. It seems sorrow brings out the resemblance.

Elena’s heart aches for Damon, and for Stefan to a smaller extent. The woman they loved, who supposedly loved them, just left them and let them think she was dead. Who could do that to someone they loved?

Elena doesn’t love Damon (she _doesn’t_ ), but she even so, she can’t convince herself that abandoning him is the right thing to do.

“You…” Stefan says, turning to Damon. “Have you tried to find her?”

“No,” Damon says, looking a bit guilty to Elena. “I’ve been… preoccupied.”

Damon and Elena’s eyes meet. Elena feels a pull towards him that feels less like annoyance for being called a distraction and more like-

(She doesn’t want to admit the satisfaction she feels at holding Damon’s attention over Katherine, not even to herself.)

“But I’m here now,” Damon says to Stefan, sounding more like a big brother than Elena has ever heard from him. (She misses her own brother _so much._ ) “And I’m going to help you find her.”

Stefan pauses, and Elena can’t see his expression from where she’s standing, can’t guess how he’s reacting.

“How?” Stefan says through what sounds like a clenched jaw.

Damon glances to Elena again, face hardening when he notices the bloody wrist she clutches. “I have a friend who’s good at finding people that don’t want to be found, you being exhibit A,” Damon answers calmly, even though Elena can tell all he wants to do is punch the hell out of Stefan. But he’ll put Elena’s safety before his own vengeance, she knows that now.

“Why would you want to help me?” Stefan asks, doubt clear in his voice. “Just so you can have Elena all to yourself?”

Damon puts his hands up. “Guilty. Would you blame me?”

Elena can see Stefan grinning when he looks back at her. “No,” he says. “She tastes amazing.”

Damon growls, and starts toward Stefan, but Elena beats him to it. With Damon there, she finds her courage again, and storms right up to Stefan.

“And that was the last taste you’ll get, asshole,” Elena says firmly, barely stopping herself from slapping the grin off his face.

Stefan gives her a mocking pouty face, lower lip stuck out and all. Elena sneers back at him, and Stefan goes back to a grin, amused. “We’ll see.”

He turns back to Damon, surprising both of them by clapping him on the shoulder. “Well, then, _brother_. I’ll pack a bag.”

With that, Stefan leaves Elena and Damon to themselves. After he’s gone, Elena realizes she can finally breathe normally again, the tension draining out of her.

Damon peeks his head around the corner, and when he’s satisfied Stefan is truly gone, he rushes towards Elena. He grabs her bloodied wrist and inspects it, turning it over with surprisingly gently hands.

“It’s healed,” he says, looking up at her with confusion before realizing the implication. “ _He fed you_ his _blood?”_ Damon growls out.

“Not like _I_ had any say in it,” Elena snaps at him, pulling her arm out of his hands.

“What did he do – did he touch you?” Damon says angrily, jealousy clear across his face.

“Don’t like it when other people touch your things?” Elena hisses.

Damon sighs in frustration, shaking his head and cupping her face. “You’re not a thing, Elena. Don’t pretend you think that’s what I think you are. I don’t want you _hurt_.”

Elena’s lip quivers, and her chest aches. “It was close,” is all she can say before she has to shut her eyes so the tears don’t escape.

“Oh, Elena,” Damon says, voice full of sadness. He wraps his arms around her, and she barely fights him before taking in the comfort he willingly gives, and she so badly needs.

“You’re supposed to protect me,” Elena says into his chest tearfully, accusingly.

“I’m sorry, I know,” Damon says softly, stroking her back. “I won’t fall for that trick twice,” he promises.

“I don’t want to be alone with him again,” Elena tells him.

“You won’t be, I swear,” Damon says.

Elena doubts he can keep his promises, though.

Damon had called April to ask how the search was going, and April had given him good news. With a combined search of a picture of Elena, and any form of the name Katherine Pierce, she had found traces of Katherine most recently in New York, and recommended they start there. She’d get back to them soon when she finds something more specific.

So they loaded up the car and, with Stefan, continued their journey North. Stefan riding shotgun next to Damon with Elena safely tucked away from him in the backseat.

The drive goes on through the rest of the evening, and Elena eventually succumbs to sleep in the back. Damon almost wishes Stefan couldn’t see her asleep, with her peaceful expression and smooth neck exposed. He almost reaches back to cover her neck with her long hair, but doesn’t want to draw Stefan’s attention to her.

“I am jealous, you know,” Stefan says abruptly, interrupting Damon’s thoughts. “You already have _your_ ‘Katherine’ back.”

Damon shakes his head, though, disagreeing. “I don’t, though. I don’t really have her. She seems close to it… to wanting me, too. But she’s not there yet. I don’t know if she’ll ever be there – here, with me, willingly.”

Stefan lets out a laugh at Damon’s expense. “Now that must be true torture. Having her, but not _having_ her? I couldn’t have come up with a better hell for you myself.”

Damon laughs with Stefan, but it’s tinged with despair.

Stefan thinks for a moment, then asks, “Is it worth it? All this effort you put in for one girl?”

Damon responds without hesitation. “Of course it is. She’s….everything.”

Damon surprises himself by answering so readily. He realizes he loves the chance to finally talk to someone about Elena.

“She’s nothing like Katherine,” Stefan notes.

“No,” Damon agrees. “She’s kind, and thoughtful. She sacrifices her own happiness for the sake of others. Hell, if she cared less, she might’ve been able to escape by now. It’s probably only my threat of killing her friends and family that stops her from trying.”

Hearing his own words he’d used to threaten Elena, Damon feels a coldness inside him.

Stefan only laughs at him, though. “Why not just kill them now, and give her no reason to leave?”

Damon lets out a noise in disgust. “She’d hate me forever.”

“So?”

“So, I want her to not hate me!” Damon says indignantly. “I want her to want me, to want to stay with me willingly, to –“

“To love you?” Stefan asks simply.

Damon huffs, but doesn’t answer Stefan.

“Fine, don’t say it. I know I’m right,” Stefan says in an annoyingly smug tone. “I’d just compel her.”

“Wouldn’t be real, though,” Damon shakes his head, already knowing how Stefan would’ve handle the same situation.

“Who cares? It’s still her, just with a little more… encouragement.”

Damon continues to shake his head in disagreement. “It wouldn’t be her. I could tell the difference.”

“Ah yes,” Stefan muses. “The spell that made her _want_ you.”

Damon whips his head towards Stefan. “How did you-“

“I learned many things during my little _chat_ with our dear Elena,” Stefan says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I doubt you got the full story,” Damon grumbles.

“So tell me,” Stefan urges.

Damon raises an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

Stefan shrugs and settles himself in his seat to watch Damon. “It’s three more hours until New York.”

Damon inwardly thrills at the chance to have someone finally hear his side of the story. Someone who might even understand him.

“It’s going to be a long drive,” Damon sighs, but begins his story.

“Where are we?” Elena asks when she wakes to the sound of a city in the morning.

“New York, baby,” Stefan says from the front. Damon hits his shoulder, which only prompts Stefan to waggle his eyebrows at Elena.

(It’s kind of sweet, watching them act like normal brothers.)

“So…what are we going to do here?”

“Get information,” Damon says curtly.

“At…” Elena looks out her window. “A mall?”

“No,” Damon says. “We’re getting you a new outfit first.”

“An outfit? How does that help us get information?”

“It helps you not stick out,” Stefan replies.

“Stick out? I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt! How is that sticking out?” Elena asks.

“We’re going somewhere that requires a little more…glamour,” Stefan says.

“What, are we going to a nightclub for vampires?” Elena says jokingly.

Stefan and Damon exchange a look.

“Wait, actually?” Elena says in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” Damon says, popping the ‘p’. “We’ve got to start somewhere, and this place is exactly Katherine’s kind of joint. Someone has to have seen her.”

“Aren’t you worried someone will recognize me and think I’m her?” Elena asks, worried.

Stefan grins mischievously. “That’s the whole point of bringing you, love. You’re the bait.”

Elena groans, but has no choice in the matter, so she lets the brothers drag her to this store and that gathering all the necessities.

(Tries not to think about how close she’d be to freedom if she didn’t have not just one, but two vampire who’d leave a wake of destruction in their path to get her back.)

When they head to a hotel to get ready, the two thankfully leave her in her own room. The hotel door would hardly hold up against two vampires, but it’s enough of a barrier that Elena can finally quiet her anxieties and breathe.

Stefan had been acting normal all day, but all Elena could see was the monster that fed off her not once, but twice.

The hot water pouring down her back does little to relax her, knowing what’s to come. Elena had been around two vampires all day, and was still nervous around the pair. How the hell was she going to handle an entire nightclub’s worth of vampires?

She’ll manage, though. She has to. This is all for her freedom, the light at the end of the tunnel that she still holds out hope for.

There has to be hope, still. Otherwise, the tiny pearl April had given her would’ve been working already, right?

Elena doesn’t know. She’s more and more out of her depth the more time she spends with Damon.

Banishing her doubts, Elena sinks herself into the routine of doing her hair and makeup. It’s a familiar routine that lets her mind go blank. She wishes she hand her phone still so she could play one of her get-ready playlists.

Finished and all done up, Elena peeks out the door but doesn’t see Stefan or Damon. She figures they must be in the next room they bought for the night, getting ready themselves. She lets herself step out fully into the room, outfit fully on display.

Going over to the bed where she’d dumped her bags, she pulls her new heels out of the box. They’re simple and black to go with her dress, but Elena glad for the three inch heels on them. It’ll give her less of a height difference between her and the brothers.

Hopefully it’ll make her feel a little less powerless around them, being able to look them in the eye more easily instead of craning her neck up as they tower over her.

Elena puts the heels on the ground and bends over to fasten the straps.

At the exact worst time, as Damon and Stefan decide to make their entrance just then.

A long cat whistle startles her, and she only barely manages to stop herself from falling over sideways. Elena whirls around, flustered and blushing, crossing her arms over her chest and wishing she had a jacket to cover up with.

Stefan grins at her and winks, not even bothering to be subtle in leering at her. Damon looks less than thrilled with Stefan’s reaction, but Elena doesn’t miss the way his eyes also flit up and down her body.

“Can we just get this over with?” Elena says, walking up to them confidently. She had been right, too. Her heels did help with the height difference, and it gives her just the slightest bit of satisfaction.

“Yes, ma’am,” Stefan taunts. “Thank god for warm summer nights,” he says, still eyeing her exposed arms, legs, collarbone and cleavage.

“You’re disgusting,” Elena bites back.

“Yeah, Stefan, jeez. Could you lay off checking out my girlfriend?” Damon says, also teasing.

“I’m _not_ your girlfriend,” Elena says, punching Damon in the shoulder. He must be in a good mood if he let her fist connect this time. He even mockingly clutches it in fake pain.

“I’m _only_ wearing sweatpants and hoodies after this,” she threatens.

Damon only smirks, though. “Nuh uh uh. You threaten that and you’ll only have lingerie in your wardrobe when we get home.”

Elena gasps, unsure if Damon is teasing anymore “You wouldn’t dare.”

Damon shrugs. “I’ll guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Oh my god, stop flirting,” Stefan groans. “Come on, I need a drink.”

With that, they start making their way to the vampire infested club, bickering all the way.

In dark alleys and through crowds, a woman nearby follows and watches the three of them traipse around the city. Watches the beautiful girl with a handsome man on each arm, each vying for her affection and attention.

The woman feels a burn of jealousy in her chest. A cutting feeling of loss that she had long thought she had buried.

She watches as Elena stands between the two men as they argue at each side of her. She let’s out a sweet laugh at something Stefan says, but then has her attention stolen right back by Damon.

It should’ve been her, the woman thinks.

The club is called Eternal Night, and other than a quick flash of Damon’s fangs at the bouncer to prove vampire ID, it’s almost completely normal. People dance, a DJ plays music from a stage at one side, and the bar tenders mix drinks that look to be blood free.

“You know, I’m only 18,” Elena calls over the music. “I don’t even have a fake ID.”

Damon just laughs and pulls her over to the bar. “They don’t ask questions here. What do you want to drink?” he asks her.

Elena almost asks for water, not wanting to be under any kind of influence while around Damon and Stefan. Who knows how they might take advantage of her.

A sight on the dance floor makes her think otherwise, though. A woman with two people on either side of her, both drinking from her neck. Elena nearly wants to throw up, but she manages to tear her eyes away.

“Shirley Temple,” she says quickly, thinking of April and missing having a friendly face in a crowded club.

At least, one without any ulterior motives.

Damon orders Elena’s fruity drink and a whiskey for himself. Elena looks around when she realizes Stefan isn’t with them anymore.

“Where’s Stefan?” she asks Damon after taking a long sip of her drink that makes her head start to spin.

“What he came to do. He’s getting information,” Damon says, scanning the room.

“So we’re supposed to just wait here until someone recognizes me?” Elena asks, wondering how late the night will go.

Damon turns to look at her, and grins.

“What?” Elena asks, suspicious.

“You’re right, how will anyone see you if you’re hiding out at the bar?” Damon knocks back his whiskey in one swig. “Care to dance?”

Damon extends his hand out in front of her.

Elena looks nervously at the crowded mass of people on the dance floor, thinking of the trio from earlier.

“No way,” she answers him, shaking her head.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Damon says, catching her eye and holding her gaze with a serious look. “You’re not the only human here. No one will try anything, especially since you’re with me. Come on, Elena. The sooner someone recognizes you the sooner we can leave.”

Elena can’t argue with that logic, so she timidly places her hand within Damon’s. From Damon’s smile, Elena can see his happiness from her saying yes to him.

(As if she actually had the option to say no.)

Damon pulls her towards the center of the dance floor through many writhing bodies, though he somehow keeps them from touching her. When they reach the middle, Damon pulls her into him, chest to chest. His hands smooth down her sides to her hips, coaxing her to sway with him to the music.

Elena moves stiffly, though, too preoccupied with the man to her side staring at her with interest. Damon notices him, too, and flashes his fangs at him with a growl that Elena can actually feel with her pressed against him. The man gets the message, and thankfully quickly retreats.

“Elena, relax,” Damon urges, stroking his hand across the small of her back.

The alcohol hits her hard, and the feeling of Damon intensifies, as if she had the lust spell on her again. The beat of the music pounds through her chest and she finds her rhythm. Damon’s expression turns sultry, and Elena shivers even though she’s nearly sweating from the heat.

Elena lets her head tilt back as they sway, and Damon tightens his grip on her, snapping her head back to him.

“Don’t do that,” he hisses at her. “Do you realize how tempting you look to a room full of vampires?”

Emboldened by her new height and her drink, Elena puts on a pout, pushing out her lower lip. Damon’s eyes focus on it immediately. “What’s wrong, I thought I was supposed to stand out?”

Damon licks his lips as he stares at hers. “You already stand out, Elena. No need to put on a show.”

“Didn’t you say the sooner someone recognizes me, the sooner we can leave?” Elena says innocently. “Then why can’t I show off?”

Damon’s hands tighten on her again, and suddenly he’s turning her, spinning her so that her back is to his chest. The new position lines their bodies so that there’s barely any space between them, and heat pools in her belly. Damon continues to sway with her, hands moving up and down her body in the most sensuous way.

From her new position, Elena can see the woman from before just a few feet away. The two men on either side dance with her now, but Elena can see the bites marks still fresh and bleeding down her neck. The woman looks blissful, eyes shut and hands thrown in the air, moving to the music.

Her stomach churns with a different emotion now. She remembers so clearly the feeling of Damon drinking from her. The absolutely ecstasy that couldn’t have just been from the spell.

She can _feel_ when Damon notices the trio. He pulls her into him impossibly closer. Elena’s body hums in anticipation.

Slowly, deliberately, so that Elena could tell him to stop at any time, Damon pulls her hair to one shoulder. Almost on instinct, Elena leans her head back onto Damon’s shoulder, letting her neck extend right in front of Damon’s mouth.

(This is stupid, she knows. But she’s caught in the music and the lights and the alcohol and she wants to feel _good_ for once.)

Damon’s lips hit her neck, and she’s almost surprised it isn’t his teeth first. But she moans in his arms when he sucks and kisses at her pulse point.

“Damon,” she breathes when he moves to the sensitive spot just under her ear.

“Elena,” he says, drawing out her name in a whisper. “Are you sure you want this?”

Before she can respond, though, they’re interrupted by another body slipping around Elena’s front. Stefan slinks his arms around Elena, trapping her between him and Damon.

“Stefan, what-?” Elena says in confusion, putting her hands on his chest, trying and failing to push him off her.

“You two looked like you were having so much fun, I thought I’d join in,” Stefan says, eyeing her neck, most likely reddened from Damon’s attentions.

“Damon-“ Elena says, looking for help.

“You weren’t invited, Stefan,” Damon says pointedly, trying unsuccessfully to pull Elena closer to him and further from Stefan.

“From the way you were stretching out your neck there, you looked extremely inviting to me, Elena,” Stefan says, bringing his hand up to cup her neck, only for it to be swatted away by Damon.

“I thought you didn’t want her anymore,” Damon says, annoyance turning to anger.

“Just because I’m looking for Katherine doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what’s right in front of me now. Come on Elena,” Stefan says, addressing her now. “Two is better than one, right?”

Before Elena can object, she notices a voice carrying over the music.

“Katherine? Is that you?” a woman calls from where she’s pushing through people to get to her.

Stefan and Damon notice, too, thankfully, and Stefan releases her. Damon doesn’t, though, finally able to pull her into his side, putting himself between her and Stefan.

“Katherine, I thought you’d left!” the woman calls, finally reaching them.

“I’m sorry, I’m not Katherine,” Elena says guiltily, but is very relieved to have an interruption and an excuse to leave the dancefloor before things escalate more.

“What?” the woman says, confused. Before she can ask any other questions, Stefan pushes her towards the bar, with Damon pulling Elena along behind them.

“You can let me go now,” Elena says, annoyed at being forced to stay at Damon’s side.

“Not a chance,” Damon says with a finality. Elena knows enough now not to argue when he gets possessive like this. His arm stays firmly around her, and he keeps her pressed into his side when they reach the bar.

(Even if she does feel safer held at his side, she’d never willingly tell him.)

“Katherine, who are these guys?” the woman asks.

“She’s not Katherine,” Stefan says curtly. “How do you know Katherine?”

“You look _just_ like her! Oh my gosh, that’s crazy,” she says, getting closer to Elena before Damon gives her a firm push backwards. “We uh… she and I…” her cheeks go pink.

Elena’s eyes go wide with surprise. That’s… unexpected. She sees similar expressions on Stefan and Damon’s faces.

“Where did you see her last?” Stefan pushes.

“We met at this house a bit out of town, why? Are you looking for her, too?” she asks.

“Take us there,” Stefan says without answering her question.

“Jeez, okay, pushy,” the woman grumbles.

She follows them to Damon’s car back at the hotel, asking questions the whole time and chattering about Katherine. Stefan seems to be doing his best to ignore her, and seems happy to direct her to the backseat with Elena.

“He’s grumpy, isn’t he?” she notes to Elena. Sliding in behind her, relieved to finally be unstuck from Damon, Elena nods. “So what’s your name then? Are you a vampire?”

Elena shakes her head. “Human. Those two are the vampires. I’m Elena.” She tries to manage a smile to the woman, but she’s too nervous at the possibility of meeting Katherine.

The woman says her name is Lana, and she happily gives directions while explaining how she and Katherine met and began their…relationship. Lana explains she hasn’t seen Katherine for a week, and had started to worry she wasn’t coming back.

Almost a full hour later, they arrive at an abandoned looking house on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by thick forest down a long driveway.

“Nice place,” Damon quips, looking out the front windshield.

“It worked for what we needed,” Lana shrugs.

“Elena, stay here,” Damon says. Elena thinks he must be paranoid. This place looks deserted. Stefan’s already out of the car, though, and walking towards the house. “Don’t leave the car.”

He looks back at her and waits for her nod before following Stefan towards the house.

“Aren’t you going with them?” Elena asks, confused by Lana taking out her phone and dialing a number.

Lana’s cheerful demeanor is gone though, and she looks at Elena with piercing coldness, shaking her head. “Now,” is all she says to the receiver.

Elena feels a sense of dread curl within her, but she can only turn her head to see the brothers walking away before shots ring out.

Damon and Stefan hit the ground like rocks.

Elena screams.

People with guns and crossbows swarm the area, appearing from the blackness of the woods like shadows. They surround Damon and Stefan’s limp bodies on the ground.

Lana grabs Elena and yanks her out of the car.

“This one’s human,” she calls to the others.

“Take her inside,” says the leader, presumably.

Elena stumbles as Lana drags her along. For a split second, she can see Stefan and Damon through the group of people surrounding them. A few people hold them down, and one injects Stefan with a syringe. Elena’s eyes drift to Damon, and his eyes meet hers.

Later, Elena will wonder how she looked to him that made him look at her like that. Did she look confused? Scared?

(Did she look like she was asking him to help her? To come to her and keep her safe? She hopes he couldn’t see how much she needed him in that moment.)

Whatever it was, it seems to fill Damon with a furious energy, enough to throw all four people holding him down off.

Then she’s in his arms, cradled against him as he speeds them away from the people. It’s dark, though, and he doesn’t take her far before he hides them against two trees.

“Fan out!” Elena can hear one of them calling. “Find them, but don’t kill them! We want them alive.”

In the dark, Elena can only just make out Damon’s face even though he’s right in front of her.

“What’s going on?” she whispers so quietly she can barely hear her own voice.

“Hunters,” Damon says, grimacing in pain as he starts to pull what looks like bullets out of his legs. “It was a trap.”

“What do we do?” Elena squeaks, feeling panic crawl up her throat.

“ _You_ ,” Damon says, putting his hands on either side of her face, “are going to stay here and stay _hidden_. I’m going to lead them off and then double back for Stefan.”

“You can’t! They’ll kill you!” Elena cries, and clutches Damon’s hands as if she could somehow stop him from leaving.

Damon’s face softens, and he gives her a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Elena shakes her head, and holds Damon’s hands so tight that she digs her nails into them.

“Don’t leave me, Damon,” she pleads with him.

“I won’t,” Damon promises. “I’ll come back for you once I get Stefan. Just _stay here_.”

Damon pulls away an inch before stopping himself and seeming to think something over. Before Elena can guess what he’s thinking, he seems to decide.

Damon leans forward and presses his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, all the need pouring out from him and pulling her into it. Like he’s a man dying of thirst and she’s the only water he’s seen for miles.

Like it’s a goodbye.

(Even if she does kiss him back, she’d deny it to her dying day.)

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving the ghost of his kiss on her lips and the heat of his hands on her face. She’s left cold and alone. Empty without Damon.

Elena curls herself into a tight ball and listens.

What could be hours or minutes later, she sees lights flashing as the hunters’ flashlights sweep through the trees.

Then she hears more gunfire.

Too close. _Far too close._

“Got the vamp! Find the girl,” a familiar voice calls. Lana, Elena realizes.

What a great actress she was.

They now have both Damon and Stefan, the only two people in this forest that would protect her. What can she do now, just a little human girl against a small army?

The only thing she can do, she supposes.

“I’m over here, please don’t shoot!” Elena calls towards where she heard Lana’s voice coming from. She stands and tries to make her self visible and obvious.

In just a minute, Lana stands before her with a flashlight directed straight at her face, nearly blinding her.

“Please, I don’t know what you want but I just want to go home,” Elena tries.

Lana gives her a suspicious look, then gestures her flashlight back towards the house. “Move,” she orders.

The alcohol has left her system, and Elena feels all the more powerless with it gone.

Lana takes her into the house to a mostly empty room and shuts the door. Pushes Elena onto a chair and pulls one out for herself.

“Compelled or willing,” Lana states, but Elena can’t process the words.

“What?” she asks, rubbing her temples and leaning forward.

“Are you compelled or were you with those vamps willingly?” Lana repeats.

“I… neither. They... I…” Elena doesn’t even know how to begin explaining her situation.

“You sure?” Lana asks. “Looked to me like you were plenty willing.”

“No!” Elena cries, and takes a shaky breath. “No, just let me explain.”

Lana leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, seemingly giving Elena the floor.

“One of them, Damon, he’s been holding me captive for… god, weeks now. He was helping his brother find Katherine. She was the one who turned them, but they only just found out she was still alive. Please, I just want to go home.”

Elena hopes Lana believes her shortened story. She doesn’t want to think of what could happen to her if they decide she’s lying.

Lana studies her face for another long moment. Elena would’ve bolted had she not seen the guns the cavalry outside had been packing. She’d never make it out of here by running, she’d have to talk her way out.

The door opens then, and another man walks in. The one who had told Lana to take Elena inside.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man says. “You’re Katherine’s spitting image. But you’re human!”

The man lets out a big, guffawing laugh that startles Elena. Lana rolls her eyes, but the tension seems to have left the room.

“How do you know Katherine?” Elena asks, too curious to hold her tongue.

“I’ll let Lana explain that,” the man gestures to her.

“We run an operation,” Lana says, curt and to the point. “I bait and trap the vampires, my friends here do the killing. Except, Katherine was too smart. She got away from us. That is, until I saw you.”

Elena wrings her hands in her lap, nervous.

“She says she’s been kidnapped by those two. Just wants to go home,” Lana says bluntly, but not unkindly.

“Well, now, hold on a second,” the man says. “Why don’t you answer a few of our questions and we’ll be happy to get you where you’re going.”

“You’ll… help me?” Elena asks, still unnerved by the guns strapped to the hunters’ hips.

“Course. You’re human, ain’t ya? We don’t got nothing against no humans. It’s the vamps we’re after,” he says, and Elena notices his southern drawl. It actually puts Elena somewhat at ease, hearing a familiar accent this far north.

“I’m Joe,” he says with a smile. “What’s your name, little miss?”

Elena gives Joe a small smile in return. “Elena.”

“Alright, Elena. Care to explain why we thought you were a vampire who could be your twin?”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Elena says truthfully. “I had no idea who Katherine was a month ago, before I met Damon. He thinks I’m her descendant, but I’ve never met her myself.”

Elena goes about describing how Katherine turned the brothers, and that they want to find her again. Joe listens attentively. He even gets Lana to bring her a water bottle and a snack bar to munch on, which calms her nerves and makes her words flow more easily.

After she finishes her story, Joe thinks for a bit, just stroking his beard and nodding his head.

“That’s quite a tale, Miss Elena,” Joe says seriously. “And while I’d love to know the full story, I think it’s best we get you on home now. Seems like you’ve helped us all you can.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Elena breathes out, so overwhelmed with gratitude she thinks she might cry.

“I’ll have Lana bring the truck ‘round, then you can give her directions back to your hometown.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Elena tells him. “Thank you so much, Joe.”

Joe gives her a kind smile. “Just do me a favor, would you?”

Elena nods emphatically. “Anything.”

Joe lets out another booming laugh. “Just a small one. Don’t get mixed up with these vamp folks again, understand? They’re a dangerous bunch. They’ll getcha killed.”

His words strike her suddenly and Elena’s smile drops, though she nods somberly. “Sure, Joe. Thanks.”

Joe smiles and nods again, then leaves her alone in the room.

How could she have forgotten?

She could leave now, sure. But what about Damon and Stefan? What were the hunters doing to them?

Could she leave knowing they could very well be killed by the same people who would kindly return her home?

Elena wants to think she could. Wants to believe she would just leave the two brothers and never look back. Wants to leave the entire world of vampires behind.

But that’s not who Elena is. She could never put herself before other people.

She can’t leave Damon after he’s saved her life so many times. She realizes she’d give up her freedom if it means saving Damon’s life.

(And that _terrifies_ her.)

Before she can change her mind, Elena steps out of the room to find him.

Quietly, trying to stick to the walls to avoid any squeaky floorboards, Elena sneaks down the hall, listening for any signs of the brothers.

Just a moment later, she hears a roar of pain coming from the next room over.

Torture. They’re torturing them.

Elena’s stomach flips, and she has to swallow down bile. More certain she made the right decision, she makes her way towards the room the yell came from.

She just barely notices the footsteps coming her way in time to duck into a closet and hide.

“That one doesn’t know anything. We’ll have to hope the other has some idea of where Katherine is.”

The hunters’ voices fade as they go down the hall Elena came from and walk upstairs.

Forcing herself to breath and try to calm down, Elena stealthily leaves the closet and enters the room across from it.

There, she finds Stefan. Wrists and ankles bound by rope and bleeding, and shirt shredded, revealing deep, bloody gashes underneath. His chest heaves, but his head is hung low, so he hasn’t seen her yet.

Elena takes a small step forward, but the floor creaks and Stefan’s head snaps up.

He looks shocked when he sees her, confusion plain across his face.

“They were going to take you home,” he says. “I heard them. Why didn’t you leave?”

Swallowing, Elena approaches him slowly. “I couldn’t let them kill you,” she says simply.

Stefan’s mouth hangs slightly ajar, looking at a loss for words.

“Can you get these ropes off?” she says, reaching for them.

Stefan shakes his head. “Soaked in vervain.”

Elena searches the room and finds a knife covered in blood nearby. She picks it up, but it feels awkward in her hand.

“You’re going to set me free?” Stefan asks, as if it were as unbelievable as the moon being made of cheese. “I could kill you, you know. Damon isn’t here to protect you.”

Elena swallows again. “I’m hoping you won’t,” she says meekly, bringing the knife up to one of his wrists and starting to saw back and forth. “You may be a dick, but no one deserves to be tortured and left to die.”

She avoids looking at him as she cuts the rest of his bonds free. Once they fall loose, Stefan’s hands hang limply at his side. After a moment, Elena manages the courage to look up at him.

He just stares at her, but it’s like his entire face changes.

Gone are the predatory looks and the smirks. Stefan’s face is full of emotion, shifting from shock to some combination of joy and gratefulness. It’s completely different from the Stefan she knows.

It’s like a switch had been flipped.

“We need to get Damon,” Elena says, uncomfortable with his staring.

Stefan nods, and when he pulls her by the wrist to the door, she finds she isn’t scared by him anymore.

“Stay close, but stay behind me,” he tells her before they make their way through the house.

They follow sounds of pain, which echo through the decrepit house. Damon’s cries shoot straight through her, and Elena gets more anxious to find him.

Unfortunately, they arrive in the middle of Damon’s questioning. Elena can hear the hunters’ insistent questions getting louder.

“Stay here,” Stefan growls to her, then crashes through the door way.

Elena keeps her back against the wall and tries to shut out the hunters’ screams as Stefan tears through them.

It’s over faster than Elena expects, though. When she hears Damon saying Stefan’s name, she runs into the room herself, the bodies of the hunters completely ignored.

Damon mirrors Stefan’s earlier position, and the cuts she sees on him hurt more than she could’ve anticipated.

“Damon, we’re here,” Elena says, starting to cut through his ropes.

“Elena?” she hears him whisper, incredulous. “You’re here.”

“I couldn’t let them kill you, could I?” Elena says, hoping to pass it off as a casual move.

(Definitely not one that shows how much she cares for him.)

Ropes cut, Damon leans forward onto her, needing support to stand with a more recent dose of vervain than Stefan.

“Yes you could’ve,” Damon says seriously. “But you’re here.”

“Stefan helped,” she says, trying to shrug under his weight.

Damon doesn’t respond, though, just continues to stare at her with wonder.

“Come on, let’s just get out of here. These heels are killing me,” Elena tries to joke.

The unknown bodies of the hunters still lay in the room, hanging heavy over her.

“Please don’t kill anyone else,” she asks Stefan.

“No promises,” he replies, and helps carry Damon outside.

There, they find Lana and Joe standing in front of a large truck with obvious disdain written on their faces.

“So much for that favor,” Joe says to Elena.

“You were going to kill them,” she responds, scowling.

“They’re monsters,” Lana objects, and raises her gun towards them. Stefan lets out a low, threatening growl and steps in front of Damon and Elena.

“You tortured them! You’re the monsters!” Elena shouts.

She looks around, but doesn’t see any more of the group from earlier. Most of them must have left when they secured Stefan and Damon, thinking to have won.

“I’ll give you one more chance, Elena,” Joe offers. “You come with us, and we’ll take you home.”

Damon stands straighter at that point and tightens his hold on Elena. “Don’t,” he says softly in her ear. “It’s another trap.”

She looks between Damon and the hunters. Weighs her options.

Between the vampires and the hunters, she knows who she can trust to keep her safe.

Even if it means keeping her captive.

“Just leave,” Elena says. “Leave, and they won’t kill you.”

Lana looks like she’s about to object, but Joe puts his hand on her gun and lowers it.

“I think it’s time we head out,” he says, grimacing. “Remember what I told you, Miss Elena.”

Shaking his head, he gets into his truck and pulls out of the long driveway, leaving Elena, Damon, Stefan, and a large, empty house.

 _They’re a dangerous bunch_ , Joe had told her. _They’ll getcha killed_.

It’s been a long fucking night.

Outside, propped up on the hood of the car, the brothers watch as the house burns, covering their trail and destroying the bodies inside. The light of the fire illuminates the whole woods around them, but Elena can also see the start of daylight peeking through the trees. Elena hears the brothers’ conversation from where she sits inside the car, feeling numb again.

“Will you…come back with us?” Damon says, sounding more unsure of himself than Elena has ever heard.

“To the boarding house?” Stefan asks, sounding surprised. “You wouldn’t want me there, what with you still having a kidnapped girlfriend.”

Damon is quiet, so Elena can’t guess how he feels about that. About still keeping her against her will.

“I could always decide I wanted another taste, and then it would just be us at each other’s throats like old times,” Stefan continues.

“Like old times…” Damon says, sounding lost in the past.

“Besides, I can’t wait around for Katherine. If she hasn’t come back in the last 150 years, she isn’t coming back voluntarily. I’ll have to get out there and look for her myself.”

“I can help with that,” Damon offers. “I have a friend, she’s good at tracking people. If she can’t find Katherine, no one can.”

Elena can see Stefan nod.

His words hit her suddenly. Stefan is leaving. Which means it’ll just be her and Damon again.

Which means if she leaves Damon, he’ll be alone.

This is the opposite of what she wanted, what she came for.

On a whim, she steps out of the car and slams the door shut. It startles the brothers, who look back at her in confusion.

“Stefan, can I talk to you?”

Stefan looks at Damon with an incredulous expression. Damon only shrugs and looks just as puzzled as he is.

“Alone?”

Stefan grins, grabs Elena by the waist, and starts hauling her away from the car.

“Don’t steal my girlfriend, Stefan!” Damon calls, half joking behind them. Elena can see he keeps a close eye on them, though.

Once they’re out of earshot – quite far considering vampire hearing – Elena pushes herself away from Stefan.

“Did you want a kiss goodbye?” Stefan says with a smirk.

Elena isn’t impressed, though. She crosses her arms in front of her and gives Stefan a look.

“What?” Stefan says, cocking his head to the side.

“You can drop the act,” Elena says. “I know you don’t have you emotions switched off anymore.”

Stefan’s predatory look loses some of its edge, leaving him looking more lost and unsure.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you’re torturing yourself,” she says, now with a softer tone.

Stefan pushes a hand through his hair, ruffling it out of its perfectly coiffed style. With the façade dropped, he looks younger, and it makes Elena want to wrap her arms around him and comfort him just as she always does with her own younger brother.

“How could I not after what I did to you? After spending two lifetimes torturing and abandoning my own brother?”

“Then don’t leave him again,” Elena practically begs, nearly desperate now that her final plan is failing.

“I have to. I need to find Katherine and make things right,” Stefan says, looking like a lovesick teenager.

“What about me, then? After the shit you did to me, and you’re just going to leave me with Damon?” Elena spits, lashing out.

But when Stefan cringes back like he’s been kicked, she can’t help but feel guilty.

“You two just need to work through your shit together. Me being there wouldn’t help at all,” Stefan says, voice filled with sadness.

“No, what I _need_ is to go _home_. Please, Stefan,” Elena begs now, stepping forward and forcing him to look her in the eye. “I haven’t seen my own brother in nearly a month.”

Stefan looks even more guilty at that, and rubs his hands over his face to break his eye contact with her.

“Elena, I’m _sorry,_ ” Stefan says, looking anywhere but at her. “I did horrible things to you that I can’t ever take back, and I’m _truly_ sorry. But Damon’s my brother. I can’t take away the one thing in his life that makes him happy.”

“I’m not a _thing_ , Stefan,” Elena says lowly, incensed. “I’m a person, and I deserve to have my freedom.”

“And Damon deserves to be happy. God knows, after I’ve only brought him misery.”

Elena wants to scream, wants to pound her fists into Stefan’s thick skull. But she can’t let Damon see her like that. He’d only break up their conversation too quickly, before she can convince Stefan to help her.

“Damon will take care of you, Elena,” Stefan tries to reason with her. “When you were asleep in the car, all he did was talk about you. He loves-“

“Don’t!” Elena interrupts. “Don’t you dare say that to me.”

Stefan purses his lips and shrinks into himself further.

 _What a masochist_ , Elena thinks. _He’s a glutton for punishment now that he can feel guilt again._

(Elena would only be too happy to provide were Damon not watching them like a hawk.)

“He’ll come around, Elena, I know he will,” Stefan says quietly. “And if he doesn’t… then I’ll check back in on you in a few weeks.”

“Hah!” Elena laughs without humor. “If he hasn’t beaten me into submission by then! Sucked all of the will to live out of me until I’m nothing but a _shell_.”

Stefan shakes his head, though, firmly set now. Elena can see nothing she can say will change his mind at this point.

“You’ll work it out,” Stefan states decisively. “Come on, I should get you back to him.”

Elena wants to cry. Wants to sit down and the dirt and refuse to move. Wants to kick and scream if anyone dares _touch_ her.

But the numbness creeps back in. Looms over her after defeat crushed her. Her last chance at freedom and she blew it.

What hope is there now for her?

Elena doesn’t remember the pearl until she’s putting her duffel bag back in Damon’s room once they’re back at the boarding house.

When she does remember it, her entire body tingles like the air around her is charged with electricity. Though it’s a tiny thing, she knows immediately where it got jostled to inside of her bag, like it’s calling to her.

She knows it’s the right time to break it since she can feel _something_ when she holds the pearl. And before, where it was cold, now it’s warm, and almost pulsing.

She takes the pearl and lays it on a table. Gently, with barely any pressure, she pushes down on it with her palm

It cracks in half even without much effort. When Elena removes her hand, though, instead of two halves of a pearl, she finds a single skinny syringe filled with some clear fluid and a needle point.

Without having to think, she knows it’s full of vervain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be the last one. I’m torn, would you rather a bittersweet ending or a happy ending? In other words – do you want a sequel or should I end it here? I’m undecided. I had planned on wrapping it up but I’m also considering a sequel. Also, if I were to finish this story without a sequel, would you have any other requests for me to write about? Let me know, I’d love to hear your thoughts!


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